The Trinity
by Shane Lutz
Summary: When Thalia brings news of two other camps - one for kids of the Egyptian gods, and the other for the kids of the Norse gods - her, Percy, and Annabeth meet up with three kids from both camps to stop an evil that threatens all three gods and the world.
1. We Are Not Alone

Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase, along with the rest of the camp, huddled around the tired and heaving Thalia on Half-Blood Hill. When the sun had risen that morning, they had seen her running towards them, and they now all were crowding her, wondering why she had come. Only something extremely dire would bring Thalia, alone, without the other Hunters. Something horrible . . .

"Thalia, my dear, why have you come?" Chiron said calmly, kneeling by her side. He handed her a water bottle which she grabbed and took a deep drink, emptying it. She heaved a great sigh, and her breathing seemed to be more even and her heartbeat slowed. She was on the verge of collapse and her heart probably would've exploded if she had taken another step, and the daughter of Zeus was exhausted.

"Something terrible . . . something terrible . . ." She kept muttering to herself, shaking her head as tears streamed down her cheeks. Chiron looked up at Annabeth and Percy in a silent plea. The knelt by Thalia as he rose and pushed all the crowding campers away.

"Thalia," Annabeth whispered, "what's terrible? What has happened?"

"We . . . I . . . Oh! I don't know where to start!" She yelled, aggravated, pounding the earth.

"Start at the beginning," Percy said evenly. She looked up into his face, and they shared a strange connection in that moment: two children of the most powerful gods who shouldn't have been born. They were so much alike, despite how much the wanted to deny it.

Thalia sniffled, and wiped her nose on her sleeve. She took a deep breathe and began. "Lady Artemis, me, and the Hunters were on a hunt for Sasquatch in the heart of Canada . . ." Percy shot Annabeth a look, mouthing the word "Sasquatch", but he said nothing. ". . . when we came across a deep valley. We noticed how it seemed to shimmer and twist, like there was an illusion put on it to prevent mortals from seeing what was really there." She took a deep breathe again, pausing, then continued. "We traveled down there, despite the fact that the Bigfoot's trail didn't lead in there – and as we went deeper into the valley, buildings, cabins, and even arenas began to materialize. We didn't know what it was, although Lady Artemis was scared, and I've never seen her afraid. But we soon discovered that it was a camp . . ." Her voice trailed off, distant and quiet.

"There are many camps in Canada, my dear. It is dense woodland and the perfect spot for . . ." Chiron tried to explain, but Thalia cut him off.

"It was a camp for Half-Bloods, for demigods." She stared up into every shocked and scared face around her. "We are not alone."

* * *

All of the cabin leaders sat around the ping-pong table, including a few satyrs, naiads and nymphs. They all sat in silence, although the occasional whisper was heard, all mentioning Thalia. No one believed her except Percy and Annabeth, and perhaps Chiron, but those four couldn't influence an entire camp, let alone the Twelve Olympians.

"So if this is a camp for Half-Bloods, then how come we haven't heard of it?" Clarisse said bitterly, two Ares kids flanking her, glaring at Thalia. Everyone turned to the daughter of Zeus to hear her reply, or to see her strike Clarisse with a lightning bolt, but when she responded, her voice was small and tired.

"It isn't a camp for the children of the Greek gods, it's a camp for the children of someone – some_thing_ – else . . ." She looked at Chiron, who nodded and proceeded with her explanation.

"The Olympians were from Greece, but there were _others_. Two other clans, to be exact. They divided up the world in the beginning of time, and have never interacted. The camp Thalia and the Hunters discovered was the camp of the children of the Asgardians, or the Norse gods," Chiron finished the last part quietly, like he didn't completely believe it himself.

"No offence Thalia, but that's impossible!" Silena, the leader of the Aphrodite cabin put in.

"Unfortunately," a dreary voice muttered from behind them all, "what this girl says is the truth." Mr. D – Dionysius – came out of the shadows and pulled up a chair. "The Elder gods – titans and other older immortals who still lived and remained in power – told us younger gods the stories of the two other clans as scary stories to keep us on Olympus when we were children. Of course, some of us didn't listen, and the rest of us were told that we would never see that one again, because they would be taken."

"But if Norse gods are one clan," Percy said, looking at Thalia, "then who is the other one?"

She exchanged another look at Chiron, who nodded his head. "Lady Artemis went back to Olympus to report what we had found, but she told the rest of us to continue hunting. So we decided to get our Lady a jackalope – she does enjoy jackalopes – because when she left she was utterly distraught, and it pained us to see her that way, and we wanted to cheer her up. So we headed to Death Valley in Nevada, and while we were there, we uncovered another shimmering valley, just like the one in Canada." She paused, looking at all the stunned faces around her. "We discovered that this also was a camp, a camp for the Egyptian gods."

All at once, yelling and talking and shouting erupted from everyone gathered. A few drew swords and aimed it at others, while some called in reinforcements incase a fight broke out.

"Silence!" Mr. D shouted, his voice reverberating off the walls over and over again. He cleared his throat, and in his usual childish voice, waved a hand towards Chiron. "Proceed."

"As Olympus is not far from the camp of their kids, nor is Asgard, home of the Norse gods, or Heliopolis, the home of the Egyptians gods, far from their children's camps. Now, there is yet no sight of them wanting to move against us, and so we remain in peace, but we are all to be extremely vigilant. And do not let word of this meeting get out; it would throw the camp into turmoil. Meeting adjourned."

* * *

"It's all true, isn't it? Everything you said?" Annabeth whispered as the walked down the sandy shores. The camp was deserted: all the demigods had retired to their cabins, most likely to tell everyone of what had happened at the meeting, despite Chiron's orders.

"Yes, it is," Thalia whispered back. "Every . . . last . . . word . . ." She paused, "Well, I didn't tell them _everything_." Percy and Annabeth's heads turned quickly to look at her.

"What!?" They yelled in unison.

"Oh, uh, yeah. There was something that I wanted to share with you guys, because no one else can know." She dug in her pockets and pulled out two crumpled up notes that were obviously written in haste. She handed one to each of them, careful not to rip or damage them.

"'_Danger. Come quick. Bring only two. Evil is coming._'" Annabeth read aloud. Below the distress note was an address. She held the note up, "What does it mean?"

"Mine says the same thing," Percy chimed in.

"I found them in my pockets after me and the Hunters left the camps. None of the others had them, just me," Thalia explained.

"Who is it from? Are we the only ones who know about them?" Percy asked hastily. He hadn't been on a quest in a while, and adrenaline pulsed through him.

"They're from the Egyptians and Norse half-bloods, and no, nobody else knows but you two, not even Lady Artemis."

Annabeth and Percy exchanged a glance: for Thalia not to even tell Artemis meant how dangerous and important those notes were.

"So what do we do next?" Annabeth asked professionally, already planning a strategy.

"I think we should go to this address . . ." Thalia responded, pointing to the scribbled ink on the crumpled notes.

"I can be packed in five minutes," Percy said with a smile.

"Good," Thalia said, grinning, turning to look at the setting sun, "we leave at sundown."


	2. Midnight Calling

Annabeth walkied quietly up the stairs to her cabin, making sure not to bee seen. She doubted if anyone was asleep, but she wasn't going to risk anything. Leaving camp grounds at _any_ time was against the rules and one could be severely punished for it. The only times her and Percy had snuck away, they had saved the camp in doing so, but she doubted if this time it had any real relevancy in assisting the camp.

She shook her head in the dark. Egyptian and Norse gods. Greek ones were hard enough to believe in – although she had long accepted the existence of every figure in Greek mythology – but now she had to believe in two other mythologies as well? And read all about them none the less!

She opened the door slowly, peering in to make sure the coast was clear. There were only two kids – year-rounders – who were young and had no where to go, and they were sound asleep. She guessed the few others who stayed year-round were training in the arena.

Annabeth tip-toed across the floor, knowing which floorboards would squeak and which ones would remain silent. She had studied the cabin from top to bottom for every summer, spring, winter, and autumn that she had spent at Camp Half-Blood. It had soothed her to count the logs on the ceiling and walls, or to study how the structure was built. But now she was creeping through it, about to steal away from camp in the dead of night. Well, she thought, twilight wasn't _really_ nighttime, that had to count for something, right?

_Reeeeeeeak!_

She froze, terrified. She slowly moved her foot off the floorboard that she had foolishly stepped on in her deep thought. She looked around her; one of the kids rolled over and grunted something about rabbits and bananas, and the other just kept snoring. She continued – more carefully this time – through the cabin until she got to her bed. She pulled a silver backpack out from underneath, which already contained the basics for their adventure. She and Percy had been feeling strange premonitions that they would soon leave camp, and they had made sure they were prepared. She grabbed her bronze dagger and invisibility cap from her nightstand, stashing an extra pair of clothes in the backpack, too. As she closed the cabin door behind her, she heard a high-pitched, clairvoyant voice behind her on the stairs. She whirled around, but only saw a faint outline in the sudden darkness.

"Annabeth Chase, it is a pleasure to finally meet you," the voice said, a nimbus of light surrounding the figure, lighting up her features. She wore a short green and yellow dress and had flowing black hair with a golden circlet around her head. Her eyes sparkled a dazzling green, and beautiful, snow white wings unfurled behind her. She didn't look much older than seventeen.

"Nike, goddess of victory," Annabeth said slowly.

"And constant companion of your mother, do not forget," she added, her wings flapping casually.

"Well, if you'll excuse me . . ."

Nike moved in front of her, blocking her path. "Annabeth, your mother has sent me to ask you if what you are doing is worth it? The other gods are barbarians! Lowly, gruesome, bloodthirsty, berserk . . ."

"Your point?" Annabeth said bitterly.

Nike sighed, shaking her head. "My point is that you're not only risking your life at camp, but also your life entirely! What you are doing . . ."

". . . is imperative to the camp," she interrupted. Annabeth swerved out of Nike's way and ran down the cabin stairs. As she got to the ground, she turned and stared at Nike who was standing by the door to the cabin. "And tell my mom, if it's so important, than why doesn't she tell me herself?"

Then she turned and disappeared in the night, tears streaming down her cheeks.

* * *

Percy raced up the stairs to cabin number three, storming into it, making a huge raucous. No one was in it. As a matter of fact, the last person to occupy the cabin besides him was Tyson, who hadn't lived at camp for a while.

He pulled the emergency backpack from under his bed, stuffing extra clothes and stuff into it. He fumbled around searching for Riptide, before realizing it was in his pockets, like always. He shook his head, trying to clear it. He was so wound up on adrenaline that he was acting carelessly, and he knew that that was extremely dangerous. He grabbed his book on Greek Mythology that he was studying so that he didn't have to look like an idiot whenever he had to ask a question about the Greek world that everyone else knew the answer to but him. He was about to race out the door when he stopped, noticing something was amiss.

He whirled around to where his fountain in the corner of the room was, when he saw a dark, looming shape leaning against it.

"Hello Perseus." The voice gave him chills, not because it was evil but because it was so beautiful that it radiated power. A tall woman with a shimmering blue-green dress and flowing emerald and indigo hair stepped out from the shadows. "I am Amphitrite, wife of your father, Poseidon."

Percy felt something twist in his stomach at the mention of his father. He knew he had a wife, but he had never given thought to it. But now, standing before her, it made him wish he had prepared for it, despite the fact that there was no way he could have.

"Hi," was all he managed.

The goddess let out a chirping giggle and sat down on one of the beds, smiling at him. "I see you're all prepared for this adventure you are about to embark on," she said, nudging her chin in the direction of the backpack.

"Uh, yeah, sorta," he mumbled, still a little incoherent. He cleared his throat and managed an actual sentence. "I suppose you're here to make me stay?"

She shook her head, no longer smiling. "Just the opposite, I'm here to help you." She saw the stunned look on Percy's face and giggled again, high-pitched and beautiful. "Your father knows that you are like him: uncontainable, set in his ways, always moving, always looking for adventure. And so, he sends his blessing, along with these . . ." She stood up and opened her hand to Percy. Sitting precariously on her palm were three rings hat seemed to be carved from seashells. "They will protect you from any magic of the Norse or Egyptian demigods. They're for you and your friends."

"Thanks," Percy said, grinning at the three rings.

"Don't thank me, thank your father, he gave them to you. I'm just the messenger." Then she turned and walked past Percy out of the cabin, taking a deep breathe of fresh air. "Good-Bye, Percy Jackson, son of the Sea God."

When he turned around to look out the open door, all he saw was floating sea mist that was slowly floating away in the wind. He smiled and looked up, "Thank-you father."

Then he turned and ran out of cabin number three, adrenaline fueling him.

* * *

Thalia moved slowly through cabin number one, remembering the few days she had spent there.

She had never stayed in the cabin when she had first come to cabin, never making it that far, and she only stayed in it a few weeks the rest of the time. She had never seen the camp at spring, when it was its most beautiful, but she looked forward to it.

She already had a backpack slung over her shoulder packed with things previously prepared before her coming to camp. She smiled to herself as she whipped out a spear from what seemed like nowhere. She had requested to Lady Artemis that, instead of or along with a bow and arrow, she would be aloud to wield her spear, her trusted and powerful spear. She twirled it in the air like a baton before re-sheathing it, making it disappear.

"Nice spear."

Thalia jumped and whirled around, static electricity zapping through her hands, ready to be manipulated to be thrown at adversaries. A tall, beautiful teenager stepped out from the shadows. He had short blonde hair with blue eyes, and Thalia immediately recognized him as Zephyr, the West Wind.

"My Lord," she said, bowing.

"No, no! I hate formalities! Why can't someone just say 'Hey Zephyr, what's up?' Ya know, Thales'?" He said casually.

"Uhh, not really."

"Well, whatever. Ok, so, let's skip the chit-chat and get to the point. Your dad doesn't want you doing this," he said, rolling eyes. "As if you didn't already know that. Jeez, I tell him you're just like him, but noooo! He doesn't listen to me . . ." Thunder boomed overhead, and he turned and looked up. "Alright! Alright!" Zephyr yelled, shaking his head.

"Well, you can tell my father that I'm doing this whether he likes it or not," Thalia said testily. More thunder.

"Oh no, Thalia," Zephyr said with fake drama, winking at her, "I can't let you do that!" Then, swooping in, he whispered in her ear, "Good job kid, we're all proud of you. Oh, and don't worry, I got your back. And Percy will know what to do."

"Huh? What? I don't get it!" Thalia asked, but he was gone, only leaving the fresh smell of flowers behind and gentle breeze that made her involuntarily smile.

"Ready?"

Thalia whirled around the see Percy and Annabeth behind her, curious looks on their faces. She smiled; something she hadn't done in a while.

"Let's go."

* * *

"This way," Thalia said suddenly, veering away from the direction of Half-Blood Hill. They trotted off in the direction of the beach, none of them talking about their incidents in their cabins.

"Why are we going this way? The road is the other way," Annabeth said, looking behind her to make sure no one was following them.

"We're not taking the road. The address from the other demigods is on the Atlantic coast, we can get there three times as fast and efficiently going by sea," she explained.

"Um, no offense, but that is one of the dumbest ideas I've ever heard," Percy mumbled. "I'm the only one who can actually travel by sea unless you have a cruise for us to high-jack." He smiled and turned to Annabeth, who grinned as well, remembering when they had traveled most of the way to the Sea of Monsters via Luke's demon cruise ship, _Andromeda._

"I'm winging it ok," Thalia yelled, a tone in her voice that said that she had it under control, even thought she didn't know which control she had it under. "We're going to be fine," she said more calmly.

As they reached the beach, the moon shed light on a large craft in the water. It looked like an ancient greek ship with vines and flowers wrapped around it. The eyes painted on the front were blue, just like the immortal's who had given them the boat, but Thalia didn't mention that.

"Whoa," Annabeth murmured.

"Percy?" Thalia asked, looking at him and then staring back at the boat. He nodded silently and stepped into the water. He shifted the waves to bring the boat closer, and it responded, floating quietly along the dark waters before landing on the beach.

Thalia and Percy jumped aboard, but Annabeth seemed reluctant, remembering what Nike had told her.

Thalia smiled as she held out a hand for her. "Don't worry, Percy will know what to do," she said, repeating Zephyr's words. Annabeth climbed aboard, and they set sail, prepared for whatever they would face.

The sun disappeared below the event horizon as they set sail, an omen of misfortune . . .


	3. Trinity Gathering

They sailed . . . and sailed . . . and sailed. The address on the note took them a long time to decode, smearing and smudging had worn away the words and rubbed them together. They pieced parts from each note together, slowly getting it to make sense. They found out that the meeting place was at the Outer Banks, the long strip of land right off the mainland of North Carolina. It had blue water and beautiful beaches, not too mention the most alluring landscape. Annabeth was fascinated when they arrived by the history of the islands. The southern-most island was where Blackbeard was beheaded, and stories of ghosts and phantoms were more common in the Outer Banks than in any other coastal region in the U.S.

The boat Zephyr had given them disappeared as soon as day broke. When the sun rose over the horizon, Percy, Annabeth, and Thalia watched the sparkling waves. They were the only ones on the beach, and it was a truly remarkable sight. Percy checked his watch that doubled as an expandable shield. It read 5:03 AM. He sighed, lying down in the sand with his hands behind his head. They were all too high on adrenaline to sleep, and so they did pointless – yet fun – activities to pass the time. They built sandcastles, surrounding them with moats and walls to protect them from the crashing waters that barreled against them. The three went swimming, making sure to stay close to Percy in case of sharks. It was a few hours later when a few tourists came, but they moved down the beach, away from their line of vision. Annabeth and Percy went shell-hunting, which Thalia stayed behind, respecting their privacy, knowing – deep down – that they were made for each other.

Thalia laid on the beach, listening to the pounding of the waves, when she heard voices not far from her.

"I do not trust the Greeks," a girl teenager spoke, her voice harmonic yet sounding acidy and bitter.

"We have no choice," a deeper, more commanding voice spoke grimly. "You have seen the signs, Nidhogg has been released."

Nidhogg? Who – _what_ – was that? She knew Annabeth would know, but she couldn't risk giving away her position. So she lay there, absolutely quiet, perfectly aware.

"But why must the other camps get involved?" The girl's voice spoke again, "We could handle it ourselves, create a regiment, build an army. We can stop it."

"No one can stand against Nidhogg," a quiet, sly voice spoke suddenly. Thalia hadn't been aware of a third presence. "The gods have grown ignorant, and so we must take matters into our own hands. But we cannot move against Nidhogg alone; we need help. Even if that help will be soon disposed of . . ." The voice's master cackled. Thalia had an idea that he was referring to her, Percy, Annabeth, and the other campers coming.

"No, Jason," the deeper voice said, "they are our allies, and we will treat them with all due respect." The one called Jason muttered something but remained otherwise quiet. "Alice, when are the Egyptians to arrive?"

"They can travel instantaneous from one place to another as soon as the sun rises," Alice, the female, said, "but they most likely appeared elsewhere, unknowing if the beach was occupied or not."

Thalia's head turned rapidly, trying to sort through everything she was hearing, when she heard the muffled footsteps right behind her head. She immediately snapped up, brandishing her spear, aiming it precariously at a teenaged boy's throat. His features were light and thin, but he was probably strong. His eyes were a starling green and slanted upward. He carried the same mischievous looks that the Hermes kids did, except this one looked more like he would do something out of malice and spite than for kicks.

He chuckled to himself, the sound high-pitched and clear. "Well looky here, seems we aren't the first ones to arrive." The other two voices she had heard came running down the beach, standing before Jason and Thalia who still held her spear at his throat.

The tall, broad guy held up his hands, showing no harm. "I'm Matt, a son of Odin, this is Alice," he pointed to the girl besides him with black hair and ice blue eyes, "daughter of the goddess Hel, and that there is Jason, son of the trickster Loki."

"Charmed," Thalia muttered, bringing her spear back down. "I am Thalia, daughter of Zeus. I am the leader of Artemis' Hunters."

"Aaah, yes, the forbidden child," Matt said, interested. "I am not suppose to exist either. One of the Egyptians who is coming is a child of a powerful god too. None of us are suppose to exist, too influential, am I right?"

Thalia nodded, surprised at how much he knew. Did the Egyptians know as much too? Were the Greek Half-Bloods the only ignorant ones?

"Thalia!" Annabeth and Percy called as they came running down the beach, weapons poised. Matt, son of Odin, pulled out a spear, while Jason wielded two deadly knives. Alice just stood there, energy radiating off her.

Thalia put her hand in front of each of them, her face an expressionless mask. "Percy, Annabeth, these are the kids from the Norse camp . . ."

* * *

The six all sat down in a circle under the morning sunlight, awaiting the arrival of the Egyptians. Finally, at noon, three figures stood silhouetted on the beach. Something about them seemed to just scream "inhuman".

But that was before they saw their animal heads.

The Norse demigods were unphased as the three half-bloods joined them, two of them having beast heads. One wore the face of a gray cat, her slit-pupil eyes and yellowed teeth, her triangular ears and her rosy nose. The other had the head of a glorious falcon and demanded honor and esteem.

"I am Isabella, daughter of the goddess Isis," the leader said, sitting beside Thalia who in turn sat beside Matt. "This is the daughter of the goddess of Bastet, Lauren," she motioned toward the cat-girl, "and the son of the god Horus, Ben," waving towards the falcon-boy. When she saw the three Greek Half-bloods staring intently at the two, she cleared her throat. "Maybe it would be best to assume human forms for the time being." The two nodded and, before their eyes, the two's heads began to twist and shift until they became human.

"We Egyptian kids have the ability to shift from our parents' animal form to human, and the animal headed side that you just witnessed," Lauren explained, sitting down beside Isabella, Ben doing the same. "But those of us who are the children of animal-gods have no control over the elements of nature as the rest of you are," she pointed to the other seven around her, excluding Ben. "But Isabella cannot become an animal, her power lies in sorcery and magic."

"That could come in great handy," Matt said, smiling at Isabella's blushing. "Maybe we could teach each other a thing or two. I also know the magic and how to wield, craft, and shape it." She nodded, but did not speak.

"So why have you brought us here?" Percy said suddenly, cracking the silence.

"We did not bring you here, boy, you came here of your own free will," Alice, daughter of Hel, said suddenly. He could tell that he and she were not going to be friends, although he doubted if one could be a friend with the daughter of such an evil and deranged goddess.

"We have requested you coming," Matt said, shooting Alice a sharp look, "because there is a growing threat, and it must be addressed." He looked at Isabella, who nodded.

"What is this 'threat'"? Annabeth asked, concerned.

"We mustn't speak of it here," Ben, son of the falcon-god, Horus, said quickly, interjecting. "This is not the meeting place, we must go there if we wish to dig deeper in this."

"What do you mean, 'if'"? Thalia asked suspiciously.

"It is your choice whether you will help us or not. I cannot tell you what you are getting yourself into before you agree, and there is no backing down once you've accepted," he responded.

"We accept," Annabeth, Percy, and Thalia said at once, not hesitating.

"Good," Lauren said as she led them off the beach, "otherwise we would've had to kill you." Percy laughed a little until he realized that the cat-girl was completely serious. A shudder went through all three Greek demigods at once.


	4. Death to Spotswood!

The nine traveled by foot south along the beach for hours. Percy walked in the water so he was bright and lively while all the others (except the Egyptians) were exhausted and dying of heat. They had long put away their weapons – for the mortals' and their muscles' sakes.

"Thalia?" Annabeth asked weakly. The daughter of Zeus turned wordlessly towards her, her eyebrows raised in question. "Can't you obscure the sun or something?"

"My powers can influence the sky, and I would probably be able to do it if I weren't so tired, but now . . ." She trailed off. Annabeth sighed in annoyance at the Hellish weather.

They continued in silence until noon, when they rested at the end of the chain of islands. They flopped down on the sand, exhausted, while Isabella and Matt purified saltwater for them to drink.

"Well," Percy muttered, sitting down next to Annabeth, "this is the end. So what's so amazing about this place?"

Ben shook his head as he smiled. "This is not the end. There is another island – Ocracoke – a while down there. It's slightly far away." He pointed south with a long, clawed finger.

"I don't see anything," Annabeth said, shielding her eyes from the sun.

"Like I said, far away," He turned away from the southern direction he was facing and looked up. "The sun is high; we should be able to make it there by dark."

"Where?" Thalia asked suspiciously.

"To the meeting place," Lauren answered, handing bottles of water to each of them. "We brought the bottles, don't worry. It's much easier to compact empty bottles with magic and fill them with your own purified water than to bring full water bottles along."

"So . . ." Thalia said, kicking sand into the ocean. "How will we get there?"

"By the easiest means of transportation, of course," Jason retorted with an edge in his voice. He motioned to where a boat was stationed at a dock. A man standing on the ship was yelling for everyong to have their tickets ready.

"We're taking mortal transportation?" Thalia almost laughed.

"What did you expect?" Alice, daughter of Hel, hissed. "Did you want us to ride a whale there?"

"Not a whale . . ." Thalia mumbled as they headed towards the barge, ". . . dragging a boat up from the ocean floor would do . . ."

* * *

They traveled by boat for an hour or two until they hit the island. It was unremarkable; unrecognizable. It was indistinguishable amidst the other islands and, if it weren't for it's blood history, it would've been completely boring.

But this was where the meeting place was.

Or so they said. Thalia was beginning to have doubts of the other camp members. They seemed to know too much, and in her book that was a bad thing. She did not trust Alice not Jason. Ben seemed reluctant to work with the other campers, but not malicious towards them and Lauren radiated power but seemed to direct it towards a higher purpose. Isabella and Matt too were powerful but aimed it at destroying a rising evil power, not each other. But she suspected Alice of having a hidden purpose to agreeing to go along with the meeting, and Jason looked like he would turn around and slice open their throats at any given moment.

She decided to avoid both of them.

They had now traveled off the paths and roads and now headed into deep jungle-like swamps. Bull sharks slid through the water and poisonous snakes hung from trees and twisted through the still waves. Rays and skates would rush away from the bottom of the water, churning up sand, obscuring their vision. Percy walked ahead with Ben, who had an internal navigational system that led him towards their destination. He would only tell them that it had a violent and powerful history and it had been visited by few mortals, and only one demigod, and it had been lost to the ages, forgotten for eternity. Until now, Annabeth thought, but kept that to herself.

"Are we close yet, Ben?" Lauren hissed, swatting at insects and trying her best to not walk in the water. She and Ben had assumed their animal-headed shapes, and Isabella had told them how she could grow wings connected to her arms, but she never showed them. "I hate it here! Hot, wet, and bug infested!" She scratched and clawed madly at her face, leaving long, white gashes along her face, neck, and arms.

"Soon . . ." He mumbled for the hundredth time, "soon . . ."

"Yeah, well, soon isn't soon enough," Lauren growled. "If you don't get us there soon, I will have Thalia here run you through with a lightning bolt." She looked at her and smiled. Thalia guessed she was trying to accomplish a friendship with her and Percy and Annabeth, unlike Jason and Alice, who kept to themselves. Ben was distracted by leading them and Isabella and Matt were sharing the "signs" they had both seen and was the reason for the conclave. Thalia fell back to Lauren's side, leaving Percy and Annabeth together.

"So you can transform any time you want?" Thalia asked.

"Yeah, but it burns up a lot of energy. We don't like to become animals that often if we can help it, too many fleas and no thumbs." Lauren winked and smiled at her. "Our human forms are only used when we're out in the mortal world. We like to use the forms of our parents as much as possible."

"Would you get seen by mortals if you went out in public in that form?"

Lauren shook her head. "The Mist obscures our image, but it only distorts us. More and more humans have become immune to the affects of the Mist, so we like to hide our true identities."  
"The Mist!" Thalia shouted with glee. "You have it too?"

"Every camp does. It's a primal force, like Aether or Time, Earth or Sky. Beings from before – long before – the gods. The still walk and roam our world in different shapes and sizes, watching . . . waiting . . ." Her voice trailed off.

"Waiting for what?" Thalia asked.

"For the time when the humans are gone from this world, and the monsters pass away; and even when the gods are gone. Then they shall reclaim this world and restore it to the paradise it once was."

"Is that why we're here? Something to do with the primal beings?"  
Lauren pursed her lips. "We think the most ancient of days, the most powerful being, has broken the Primordial Laws and is trying to . . ."  
"We're here," Ben said, appearing in front of them, eyeing Lauren with a stern look. Thalia guessed she wasn't supposed to mention anything until they were inside the meeting place. She walked around the son of Horus and . . .

. . . gasped.

Shrouded among trees and vines – which dominated the ancient building – stood an immense structure, built entirely of square stones and resembled a castle, except smaller. There was a large wooden door which looked depilated and damaged, but neither Percy nor Annabeth could open it.

"This was the meeting place of the most fearsome of all pirates," Matt explained, "lead by Blackbeard himself. And for years after descendants of those pirates met here and drank a powerful alcohol from a silver-coated skull. Blackbeard's skull." He approached the door, ignoring everyone's wide-eyed stares. "But they no longer meet here. That tradition ended about fifty years ago, when tourism grew around the Outer Banks. But this is still here, and so now we use it."

"But it's just an old, worn-out castle!" Percy yelled, annoyed. He had been dragged from Long Island for _this_?  
Isabella shook her head, coming up behind Matt. "Blackbeard, being a son of Ares, sensed the power in this building. They did not build it, they just used it. It is the most ancient structure in all of the continental U.S. and possibly North America, although history has no record of it." She touched the old wood, taking deep breaths of its earthy scent. "Those who used this fort could incorporate magic into it and changed the entry code; a special phrase must be spoken to enter. But that secret has been long lost, but the last password still lingers on, and we know it."

Everyone gathered close as Isabella and Matt spoke in unison, their voices like glass clinking together in the west wind: beautiful.

"Death to Spotswood!"

* * *

"Spotswood was all pirates most bitter enemy, and the killer of Blackbeard himself. He was a powerful pirate-hunter, and even the fearsome sea-dogs feared him. Naturally, they wanted him dead, ergo the password," Isabella explained, shrugging it off.

They all sat around a large, rectangular table. It had a beautiful scarlet cloth on it with golden embroidery that looked as if it had been made that very day. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling with lit candles (thanks to Ben) and luscious food and drinks covered the table.

"Magic," Percy had said when he saw it. Isabella and Matt – using their powers over magic – made sure it wasn't poisonous in any way, and purified it just in case. They all ate, but did not drink for they knew that within the goblets was something much stronger than Kool-aid.

Isabella, sitting at one end of the table, Matt at the other, called for silence. The small light let in through the shrouded and miniscule windows lent her face a skeletal look. When she spoke, her Egyptian accent was pronounced yet enthralling, and they all listened, except Matt, who already knew everything anyone was going to say before they said it.

"Let the first conclave of the Trinity – three different gods, three camps, and three demigods – begin."


	5. The Conclave: Part 1

"There is a threat on the horizon," Isabella said grimly. "We have all seen the signs, and if we do not act now, the world will surely crumble."

"What is this threat?" Annabeth asked.

Matt cleared his throat before answering her question. "We believe someone – some_thing_ – is awakening and releasing the primordial monsters."

"Like Gaea, Ouranus, Aether, and Chronos?" Thalia said quickly, glancing at Lauren.

"No," Matt answered, "Those, amongst others, are primordial _beings;_ we're talking about the monsters that existed even before the gods."

"Like what?" Percy asked with an edge in his voice. "If they're so ancient and evil, why haven't they been destroyed?"

"Because they can't be," Alice said acidly. "The primordial beings chained or them in various prisons that they couldn't escape from, but someone who was around when those ancient bonds were placed is now undoing them."

"And we have only two days to stop it from happening," Ben finished.

"Stop what from happening?" Annabeth said, pulling her chewed fingernails from her mouth.

"Three monsters are going to be released – one from each mythology – on New York City," Isabella said, her voice now sounding tired. "These are creatures that were imprisoned because they could destroy the world, think of what they could possible do to New York . . ."

"So if the gods can't even kill these things, how do you expect us to?" Percy asked imperviously.

"The two primeval monsters from our two camps," she motioned to Matt and the other Norse kids, "have already been released. But the Greek monster – whom we do not know which one it is yet – has not been unchained."

Thalia's brow furrowed at what she was saying, trying to understand it. "So you want us to track down whatever this monster is, and make sure it stays where it is?"

"Not you, _us_," Matt said. "We're a team now. The gods won't recognize the threat, so we must handle it."

"Why not get the entire camp involved?" Annabeth suggested.

He shook his head. "The gods would become aware and would stop us."

"Tell us about the monsters that have already been released. Maybe we'll be able to narrow down which Greek monster it is by what your two monsters are."

"My people call it the Devourer of Corpses," Alice said grimly. "My mother, Hel, governs Nifliheim, the World of Darkness, where it is caged with the unbreakable roots of the Yggdrasill. The World Tree is extremely powerful and strong; someone of great power released Nidhogg, and once released, it is unstoppable."  
The all turned towards Isabella next, but it was Ben who answered. "The monster Amehait, also known as Ammut, devours the souls of those eternally damned. While she lives in the Underworld, she is trapped in a swirling whirlpool of chaos and abyss to make sure she cannot escape. Amehait has the head of a crocodile, the mane of a lion, the torso of a leopard, and the rear of a hippopotamus. She is feared even above the dark god Set, who rules over all darkness and dark creatures and all evil things. Amehait is unbelievably powerful, and, like Nidhogg, is unstoppable."

"Well," Annabeth said, pondering, "if we look at characteristics, the Greek monster must be from the underworld, and only one of them. All I can think of is Cerberus."

"But we met Cerberus," Percy added quickly, "he wasn't chained to the Underworld. And he just guarded the Underworld, he didn't punish anyone. That job is left to the Furi-"

Thalia cleared her throat quickly, interjecting. "I mean the Kindly Ones. The job of torture is left to the Kindly Ones."

"But surely there is some monster?" Matt asked.

"Every mythology has a soul-devouring best that is primeval and destructive, and, sometimes, it even threatens the existence of the gods," Jason said, receiving surprised looks from all around him. He didn't say much, but when he did speak, his words were intelligent.

"Well," Annabeth said, obviously thinking hard, "there are myriad monsters and hellish beasts that could fall under the category you're talking about, but not that are as destructive and monstrous . . ."

"There is one," Thalia said suddenly, her voice shallow and small. "There is a monster that even the gods caged and tried to forget, making sure that it would never escape."

"What is it?" Isabella and Matt asked in unison.

She ignored them and continued. "I also know of the being that is releasing these monsters, the thing that wants to reclaim it's long lost throne."

"What?" Percy yelled frantically, He could feel the tension and energy in the room. They all were desperate to know. "Who is unchaining the creatures?"

Tears now streamed down Thalia's face, a sight none of them had even seen before. "Chaos," she whispered, "the primordial being known as Chaos."


	6. The Conclave: Part 2

"Impossible!" The Norse and Egyptian campers yelled at once.

"Chaos is a primal force," Alice spat bitterly. "She is all around us, but she cannot – would not – influence the world, let alone solidify into a being."

"Who said anything about her taking shape, hmm?" Percy said quickly. All of the campers now stood, resting against the table. Tension fumed through the air, testing each of them.

"All I'm saying is," she stuttered, trying to recover, "Chaos would never harm us."

"Who ruled the worlds first?" Annabeth asked. Nobody spoke, but they all knew the answer. "Chaos did. It was then taken from her by her children. But what if, perhaps, she wants to reclaim her throne? Kronus tried! Why not Chaos? She is mentioned as the creator of everything in each of our mythologies, not to mention the most powerful being alive. I'd say she has a thirst for vengeance."

"But that still leaves us with the question of what monster is she going to release next?" Isabella put in. They all turned to Thalia, but she remained silent, eyes downcast. Isabella sighed, sitting back down, motioning for everyone else to do the same.

"We can't kill Amehait or Nidhogg, and now we have to stop Chaos herself?" She let out another breath, shaking his head. "I think . . . I think we should leave this to the gods."

"The gods have abandoned us!" Lauren screeched. "This is the reason for the conclave! They will not help us, so we must fight alone."

"But we cannot fight alone, nor do we have to," Annabeth said quietly. She raised her head, looking at each face in turn, even Thalia looked up.

"What are you hinting at?" she asked suspiciously.

"I'm saying that there are myriad creatures that would side with us and many more that would help us stop all three of the monsters. We don't have to fight alone" She took a deep breath, letting it out, she said, "We must build an army."

Everyone was silent. No murmurs or hushed whispers, just stares and a few quick glances at one another. They were all taking in what she had said. Could they build an army? Would they dare? The gods would surely be offended and attempt to stop them and in the end they themselves would die or be punished, but wasn't it worth it, to save the world?

"That's brilliant!" Jason erupted suddenly. "And actually, that might work better than we thought." Not waiting for anyone to ask the question, he answered it himself. "If we summon an army, the gods will surely come to stop us or see what's going on. If we launch our army at the monsters and Chaos, the gods . . ."

". . . will see them and have to do something about it!" Thalia finished, her face now lively and full of color. "This is amazing! It has to work!"

"I don't mean to rain on your parade," Alice said grimly, like she really wanted to, "but where are we going to get an army of creatures?"

"We can get satyrs, fauns, naiads, dryads, and most of the kids from our camp," Thalia answered confidently.

"And we have berserkers," Matt chimed in. "They are men who can turn into wolves. They live in the woods around our camp. Plus practically all our campers are eager to fight! And not to mention the assortment of creatures throughout the Norse lands who would join to stop Nidhogg."

Isabella looked at Lauren and Ben then nodded her head. "We can only supply campers, unless . . ." She shook her head, dismissing the idea. "Yes, only campers. But remember they have power over magic and shapeshifting, plus their skill in war."

"Well then," Matt said, standing, looking at each face turned to look at him, "we have an army. We shall gather our forces – as many as we can – and meet . . ." He trailed off, thinking. "Where will the final battle take place?"

Percy and Thalia exchanged a worried look. "New York City," they answered in unison.

"Then we shall meet up at New York City and stop this terrible evil from destroying the world," Matt said with demand and leadership. He looked at Thalia, Percy, and Annabeth as he spoke again. "Me and Isabella must gather magical creatures across America; all you have to do is convince them at your camp. So your job will be to uncover what the last primordial monster to be released is. Remember, it could be anything, but it is unbelievably evil." They nodded, not trusting themselves to speak.

"We have only a few days," Ben said quickly. "Chaos will take a while to unleash the last monster as she did Amehait and Nidhogg. But we cannot waste any minute; time is of the essence."

"If we find anything, do you want us to contact you?" Annabeth asked, looking at each of the campers.

"Yes," Jason replied. "Contact us _immediately_. Everything we find is dire; we each must stay informed of each other's progress."

"Can we Iris Message you?" She asked. "Do you have a messenger goddess?"

Matt smiled mischievously, looking at Isabella. "Yeah, something like that."

They remained quiet for a while, thinking, pondering. They all were desperate to get out and start their individual missions. They wanted so badly to save the gods . . . and the world.

"Well then, we have reached an understanding," Isabella announced. "The first assembly of the Trinity has ended."

"Then it is settled," Lauren said loudly. "The conclave is complete?"

Matt turned to look at her, a grim expression on his face. "Yes, but the war for all eternity has just begun . . ."


	7. Horses, Flying Horses

They all left quickly after the conclave.

The Norse kids went back to their camp with some strange, eight-legged horses. Matt told them the original was his father's horse and it had mated with other horses, creating them. Percy told him it was just like Pegasus, but he just looked at him like he was crazy and didn't answer. Apparently, the eight-legged horses could walk on earth, water, and air, so they could get home quickly.

The Egyptians were just going to wait until sunset and open a portal, which wasn't going to be long: the sun already dipped low in the sky. Isabella explained how the sun was the most important aspect of their world, and they could use it in more than just travel. She winked before walking away to the beach with Ben and Lauren.

"So how're we going to "magically" get home?" Thalia asked stubbornly. "I hate being the only half-bloods without some method of supernatural transportation."

"Apollo's chariot is out of the question, the sun it almost out of sight," Annabeth said, thinking hard. "You might be able to summon Artemis' moon chariot, Thalia."

She shook her head. "Lady Artemis is probably still in Olympus discussing what we found and trying to get the gods to take action." Thalia scoffed, kicking some dirt.

"Um . . . Maybe we could . . ." Annabeth tried to think of something else, but her mind was blank.

A sharp neighing came from behind them and they whirled around . . .

. . . to see Blackjack hovering in the air, flanked by two other Pegasi. He whinnied and settled on the sandy terrain, approaching Percy.

_Hey boss. Did you call for some horses? _Flying_ horses?_

"I told you not to call me boss, Blackjack," He replied hopelessly, with a little pleasure in his voice at the fact that he was there.

_Oh, right, boss. Sorry boss. Well, need a lift?_

"How'd you know where we were?" It was Thalia who asked the question. Blackjack stared blankly at her, then at Percy, and back again.

_She talkin' to me?_

Percy sighed. "She wants to know how you found us."

He made a strange, laughing sound._ Oh, boss, I just followed ya'. Wasn't that hard. You don't cover up your tracks well. And if you thought you were going on a quest without me . . ._

"It's not a quest, exactly," Percy interjected.

_Whatever you call it, I'm going to go to, even if I have to hunt you down, which trust me, isn't hard._

They laughed and Percy motioned for Thalia and Annabeth to grab a flying horse. Thalia was more than reluctant to get on, but they eventually persuaded her and she slowly climbed on his back.

After a few minutes, they took off, soaring through the air. But their peaceful flight was interrupted by a sudden explosion, far below them. The Pegasi reared and bucked in mid-flight, making Thalia scream and shout. Percy ultimately calmed them, although she still death-gripped her Pegasus, afraid of falling. The flying horses turned around to see where the detonation came from.

Far below them a huge column of smoke billowed up into the air. It was deep in the swampy marshes, so most likely it would either go unnoticed, or firemen will be unable to reach it. But on closer inspection, the spot seems vaguely familiar too . . .

The conclave meeting spot.

"Oh my Zeus," Annabeth whispered.

Percy turned to her, a grim expression on his face. "What does it mean?"

She looked back, her features shadowed, giving them a skeletal appearance, making him shudder. "It means someone – someone present at the conclave – desperately wants us dead."

* * *

They soared through the sky, talking about the conclave. Thalia clutched desperately to her Pegasus, her face buried in the back of its neck. Her knuckles had gone white from holding it for so long. She kept moving her lips wordlessly, trying to calm herself. Obviously, it wasn't working.

"We'll have to split up," Annabeth said. Her brain was turning so fast that they could almost see the gears moving inside it. "Two of us will have to set out and stop the third monster from escaping – after we figure out what it is, of course. And the other one will have to stay at camp, recruiting campers, satyrs, dryads, and other magical creatures."

"That is if camp lets us back," Percy muttered. She shot him an angry look and he returned it with one of annoyance. "You can't honestly believe that they'll let us back after we snuck away from camp to meet other campers – who I would like to point out aren't even from our camp – and are returning with only the _idea_ – and yes, it is only an idea – that Chaos wants to take over the world by releasing primordial monsters. _I_ can barely even believe what I just said!"

"Chiron will listen to us . . ." Annabeth replied, although there was doubt in her voice. Desperate to change the subject, she switched to a more important topic. "We need a lead, something that can at least give us a kick-start on our quest."

"Well," Thalia said suddenly, not opening her eyes, "we know the creature has something to do with the Underworld. Both Nidhogg and Amehait do."

"Oh! And it had to of existed before time, or at least of been there when the universe was created," Percy added quickly, pleased with himself.

"Ok . . . ok . . ." Annabeth pondered for a while, thinking. She tapped her index finger on her lower lip, desperately trying to uncover something that would assist them. "The most ancient evil beings are Erebus, who was the very essence of the Underworld, and Tartarus, who was the . . ." She shook her head, trying to clear it. "It couldn't be either of them anyway; if Tartarus was released . . ." Her voice trailed off in foreboding.

Thalia and Percy exchanged a worried look. They knew Annabeth had a very clear idea of what Chaos was going to unleash next, but was too terrified to admit it, or even talk about it.

"Typhon!" Thalia screamed suddenly. She looked at each of their shocked faces, smiling broadly. "Hello? Typhon is like an almighty monster that would have no problem killing the Olympians! It's the next beast that Chaos will release!"

"Yeah, but . . ." Percy began, unsure of Thalia's claim.

"C'mon! What else could it be, Percy?"

He turned and looked at Annabeth, who quickly turned away, not meeting his gaze. He knew she was positive of what was next, but was reluctant to share it. Why wouldn't she tell them? If she knew, then the knowledge would be invaluable! It didn't make sense; what was wrong with her?

"Annabeth . . ." He said slowly, reaching for her.

"Thalia's right," she said quickly, guiding her Pegasus just out of reach of Percy. "It must be Typhon . . . it must be . . ."

They flew in silence, Annabeth slightly distanced from the others. Percy kept trying to figure out what really was the third monster and why Annabeth wouldn't tell them. And Thalia just clung to her Pegasus, making whimpering sounds every time the flying horse's flight was a little bumpy.

When the sun broke over the horizon behind them, they flew across Long Island Sound, into Camp Half-Blood. A sharp and heavy lump formed in their stomachs as they saw a very displeased and disappointed Chiron standing at the beach, flanked by an unsurprised Mr. D, with some very hungry looking harpies who were there for a very un-pleasurable reason.

For the three demigods that is, the harpies were quite happy about it.

* * *

"Chiron! Let us explain!" Thalia practically screamed.

"Enough of these denies! They broke the laws of this bloody camp, they must be punished!" Mr. D yelled at the centaur.

They five of them were sitting at a small, round table which was the anointed spot of their "trial". Percy, Annabeth, and Thalia knew they had shattered the rules of the camp and had nothing to show for their leaving. They couldn't tell them anything: if they didn't believe them, then they would surely be kicked out of Camp Half-Blood or killed, and if they did believe them, then Olympus would be torn apart by those who trusted the statements of the three powerful demigods or dismissed them as cries for attention. Either way, the three of them were going to Hades.

"I'm, sorry children," Chiron said sympathetically. "You should go and pack your bags, you're returning home. Percy, you will have to stay with your mom, and Annabeth, we have no choice but to send you back to San Francisco. Thalia, since you have none to go to, we will enroll you in a private school until your final trial."

"Final trial!?" She shouted, static electricity zapping through her black hair, making it move like it was underwater. "What the Hades!?"

"The Olympians will decide whether your testimonies are true or not, and they will deliver the final punishment, but. . ." He pulled in his lips, hesitating.

"But . . .?" Percy said, leaning forward.

"But the odds are not in your favor. You left camp for unknown reasons without a quest and have come back with nothing to stand for why you deserted this place. The gods will either disown you – stripping you of your Half-Blood abilities and making you unbelievably human – or will incinerate you."

"Hah!" Mr. D shouted joyfully. "At last! Justice on the little brats!"

Chiron sighed. "It's only these three, Mr. D, not the entire camp."

He looked at the centaur, then at the three half-bloods, and then slouched in his chair, folding his arms over his plump upper-torso. "Humph. Just when I thought I'd be rid of this filthy place."

Chiron rolled his eyes and turned back to the others, a sad and grim expression on his face. "Go pack your things. I will be there shortly to make sure you get home alright." Then he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes: "That should leave you alone for at least five minutes, do you think that's enough time?"

"Hah! Five minutes to pack? We should just kick them out with nothing!" Dionysius shouted.

Percy, Thalia, and Annabeth exchanged glances: they knew Chiron didn't mean "five minutes to pack". He meant five minutes to run.

"Five minutes," he repeated, holding up five fingers.

The three tore out of the Big House and quickly packed everything they had in backpacks, rushing out of their cabins. They hurried out by the Long Island Sound, looking around them: Chiron hadn't mentioned anything about how to get _out_ of camp.

"The Pegasus?" Thalia suggested quickly.

Percy shook his head. "The Olympians could ask Poseidon to track them mentally, and, even if he wanted us to get away, he wouldn't be able to deny their request without sounding suspicious. Plus, they fly, so they would be in your Dad's domain and he could easily lightning bolt us out of the sky."

"Then what else is there?" She asked frantically.

"I have an idea," Annabeth said. "It might work. The gods use it sometimes, but I don't know if half-bloods can."

"What is it?" Percy and Thalia practically screamed.

"Iris Instant Transfer," she said, looking behind her, checking to see if anyone was coming up behind them. "All we basically do is use Iris' rainbow to travel."

"Will it work?" Thalia asked.

"It's our only chance."

"Then let's do it."

Annabeth dug in her pocket and produced three golden drachmas, and, holding them up high, she said: "O' Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow! Except my offering!" The light around them shimmered and Annabeth pulled them both in close. "Don't let go of me, whatever happens, don't get separated," she whispered. She looked back up at the sky and yelled her destination. "Nashville, Tennessee!"

Rainbow light shot around them and pulled them high in the sky, leaving some very unhappy harpies, a furious Mr. D, and a smiling Chiron below.

They were off to save Olympus . . .

And the World.


	8. Lost, Betrayed, and Running

"What the Hades!" Thalia screamed, pushing away from Annabeth. "Why the Tartarus did you bring us _here_ of all Zeus-forsaken places?"

"This happens to be the music city of America," Annabeth said matter-of-factly.

"I don't care what it is!" She shot back quickly.

"What – or who – is here that could help us?" Percy asked calmly, looking around him. They were standing in front of the Black Horse, a restaurant by the looks of it. Few people walked the dark streets barely lit by the yawning sun in the distance. The city itself – from what he could see – was sprawling and beautiful. It was clean, litter-less, and it gave of a peaceful energy.

"'Who' is the question you should be asking," Annabeth replied, looking around. "There is a very ancient, er, _being_ who rests in the city that we need to find."

"Will they be able to help us uncover what the third monster is?" Thalia asked, now curious.

Annabeth pursed her lips, turning to look at both of them. "Yes, yes they will." She turned away and began walking down the cobblestone sidewalk, crossing streets from time to time, not checking to see if there were any oncoming cars.

"How far do we have to walk?" Percy inquired. His feet ached and hurt, reminding him that he hadn't changed shoes since he had left to the conclave. There was a sudden turning in his uneasy stomach. He was hopelessly homesick.

"I don't know," Annabeth said quietly over her shoulder ahead of them.

"Do you even know where this person is?"

"No."

Thalia sighed and muttered bitterly to herself. "I hope Isabella and Matt are having more luck than we are."

* * *

Matt swiftly pulled away from the door, swinging himself against the cabins outside wall.

Did he just see what he thought he saw?

Inside cabin number 6, the Loki kids' cabin, Jason and Alice stood close, leaning over a black goblet. First of all, the two hated each other, which was warning number one for Matt. The second one was that the goblet gave off a powerful energy: dark and primordial magic. The last clue was that inside the midnight chalice was a deep, thick crimson liquid which sent an eerie feeling tingling up his spine.

The preparations at camp were complete. He was the head of the Odin cabin, which, since his father was the chief of the Norse gods, gave him a high rank and power. They had listened to him and were preparing for battle. Over three-fourths of the campers had already left to New York City, waiting for the final battle, sending back any report of evil activity on the enemy's side, but so far all that was detected was a slight rift – a portal – where they suspected the three beasts would be brought through. They had almost all of the campers surrounding that fissure through space. The only kids left were the ones who were too young, or the ones who were still crafting myriad weapons for the final battle. The Norse kids were many things, and over-prepared was _always _one of them.

Matt leaned his head in the doorway, looking into the cabin. It was empty save for the two, and he suspected that whatever they were doing needed to be done in the absence of company. Ripples quaked through the blood that filled the goblet as whispers that resembled insect buzzing chattered out of it. Alice and Jason took it in, nodding their heads, deranged looks on their faces. Matt swallowed, fear settling in the pit of his stomach.

Suddenly, the ripples in the chalice halted, and the two demigods sharply looked up, their eyes filled with madness. Matt took a few steps back, unleashing his magic spear. Alice hissed at him while Jason licked his lips.

"Traitors," Matt spat the word acidly, grimacing at them. The two just grinned maliciously, the black goblet disappearing into dark mist. He aimed the spear at the two before whirling around . . .

. . . into the faces of fifty mad-eyed campers.

Matt suddenly realized chillingly that the only reason few of the kids stayed back was to overrun the camp, to take over it. Surely Chaos herself would become more powerful with a demigod army along with their magical camp. He looked at each face, his own frozen in fear. He was not afraid for _his_ life, but for the future that, at that moment, looked all too bleak.

A blue fire burned in his eyes as he whistled sharply, his eight-legged horse galloping quickly across the field of campers, each half-blood hissing as they dove out of its way. While it was still in motion, Matt threw himself onto it and it ran as fast as it could out of the camp.

And at that moment he swore that he would burn his own camp to the grown than see it overcome by Chaos.

* * *

Isabella picked up the buzzing cell phone, flipped it open, and spoke gingerly into it.

"Isabella here," she said. A tired, shaky, distraught voice erupted from the other side, speaking in a rush. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," she eased quickly. "Who is this?"

"Matt, this is Matt."

She straightened at his name, involuntarily straightening her clothes and running her fingers through her hair, preening it. "Hey, how's it going up there at camp? I got your message about the troops you sent to New York City. We did the same." She was uneasy about his call. Normally, cell phones were worse for half-bloods to use than a flare gun when it came to attracting monsters, but within each camp's borders the call went undetected. But still, he would only have called unless it was an absolute emergency. "So . . . why are you calling?"

"Run, Isabella, run," he said quickly, paranoia seeping into his tone. "There are traitors among the camp . . ."

"Matt, hold up!" She interceded, confused. "What's going on? Is everything OK? Explain things to me."

He didn't answer her question, but continued rambling. "Where are Ben and Lauren?"

"I don't know. I saw them like twenty-five minutes ago before they said they had to go do something _really_ important. It's not in my nature to pry into other people's business, ya' know."

Matt whispered to himself frantically. "No no no no no no! This isn't good. My suspicions have been confirmed." He paused, pondering. For a second, Isabella thought he had hung up, but then his worried voice came back. "You have to get out of there. The campers who are still there aren't on our side. They want nothing more than to . . ." He suddenly broke off, his distress quickly turning into blood-chilling yells.

"Matt? Matt!" She screamed, horrified, into the phone. "Matt, what's going on? Answer me!" Suddenly, his cries of protest and terror broke off, and the line went dead.

She stared at the cell phone screen for a while, reading the words "call ended" over and over again. When she looked up, Egyptian kids in human form, half-human and half-animal form, and beast form walked slowly around her. She flared her aura, using an ancient spell her mother, Isis, had used to test the loyalty of those who honored her and her husband, or their brother, the evil murderer Seth.

She swallowed as black color flooded off each camper around her, including Ben and Lauren who were swiftly walking towards her, weapons drawn. The sable mist meant that their allegiances did not lie with her, and that they were on the opposite side, making each and every one of the campers who were still there her enemy. Then Matt's haunting words came back to her: _There are traitors among the camp. The campers who are still there aren't on our side._ She gulped down her fear, turned and did the very thing that Matt had told her to do.

She ran.


	9. Bloody Sands

And it wasn't long till the scarabs found her.

Brilliant and myriad shades of turquoise and jade, black and sable, the Egyptian beetles had been sent out to track her scent and locate her. But they had been strictly told to only immobilize her: she was needed alive.

Isabella ran threw the desert, constantly slipping in the shifting sand. This was one of the times she loathed the fact that the camp for Egyptian half-bloods was in the heart of Death Valley, Nevada. She was unaffected by the blistering hear, but her stamina was running out. She looked up at the swirling skies and sand-tossed winds. She wouldn't be able to use her beautiful and majestic wings in the blistering gales laced with grains of sand and dirt. She decided there was only one choice: to stand and fight. She stopped running and whirled around, her hands producing a blinding golden-white light, ready to face the scarabs.

But what she saw chilled her to the bone.

Hundreds of thousands of blue-black beetles crawled and flew towards her, spreading around her, surrounding her, cutting off any escape. They didn't stop moving, just scuttling forward, desperate to get to her. And it didn't take one profound in Egyptian knowledge to know that the scarabs thirsted for her flesh.

Isabella recovered quickly, focusing her magical aura, throwing beams of light and spears of energy at the scarabs which exploded instantaneously at the impact, more scarabs taking their place in the oncoming hurdle of beetles. Her mind raced, trying to think of a way to defeat them. Then, in one last attempt, she bent low to the ground, pressing her soft hand against the sand, praying desperately.

"Oh, Geb, god of the Earth, please help me; all I need is just one chance . . ."

She raised her head; her eyes had become flat, gold coins. She poured all of her energy into her hand and through the magic into the ground. Isabella thought that it hadn't worked as nothing happened and the scarabs surged forward still. But then, with a grainy sound, the earth spilt open around her, forming a complete and rugged circle around her; sand, dirt, and beetles pulled ruthlessly into it. She wondered for a second how she could be on a piece of land with nothing connecting to it, but she decided not to question the gods' gifts. Plus, she didn't want to look into the dark crevice to find out.

When all the scarabs had fallen away (except a few which Isabella had to use her powers to utterly annihilate), the earth closed back up and, for the first time since she had fled the camp, she felt truly alone. She stared out at the east; it would be at least ten minutes till the sun would rise, so she decided to sit and wait.

It was only about a minute later that she felt a strange buzzing around her. She flew to her feet, whirling around. Nothing. Her hands began to glow with gold-white light as she ran through myriad spells in her head. She knew thousands of ancient Egyptian incantations, and she would not hesitate to use them against whatever was coming.

_Slash!_

Isabella felt hot sand beneath her as she fell to the ground. Her back felt cool and thick as her vision went blurry. She tried to stand back up, but she was too weak. She could feel the blood pooling in her bent back and trickling down her Egyptian clothing. And now she knew she wasn't unaccompanied.

"Such a pity," a high-pitched, shrill, screeching voice lisped behind her to another. She felt another slash on her back, and she winced.

"Remember, Nadir, we are to take her alive," another, same-toned voice said. "She is no use to our master dead."

"But Zenith, she looks so tasty . . ."

Nadir? Zenith? Horror-stricken, she realized what the two creatures were. Two summers ago, she had been sent on a quest to find the Lost Crown of Osiris, a powerful item that would strengthen the camp. Guarding it had been two powerful creatures known by the exact same names. Unfortunately, Isabella had seriously injured and maimed them both. Clearly they were back for revenge, but this time they were working for someone: the enemy, Chaos.

"Look!" Nadir shrieked. "She stirs!"

Isabella rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow. She knew what she would see when she looked at the beasts, but it still took her breath away. They had the heads and front torsos of eagles, and large wings that fluttered with anxiety. Each feather was a deep blue, tipped with crimson. Their rear ends and back-legs were from lions, and their sleek coats glistened in the oncoming sunshine.

Griffins.

They were extremely intelligent and almost indestructible creatures whom usually served and defended the gods in _every_ mythology, especially Egyptian. But clearly they had switched sides and were now out for the destruction of the celestial deities instead of protecting them.

"Hello, Isabella," Zenith hissed, making what might have been a malicious smile; it was hard for her to identify the facial gesture with the beak. As far as she could tell though, the two were male, which made them more-or-less aggressive than their female counterparts.

Most griffins lived in lives of luxury and vanity. They were lazy and simple creatures, obsessed with gems and jewels and other shiny materials. But occasionally one would come across a philosophical and scholarly griffin. Now those were the powerful ones who served the gods. The two creatures that stood before Isabella were clearly just hired thugs, promised riches beyond compare which she didn't doubt they would never receive.

"Nadir, Zenith," she nodded her head at each of them, trying not to wince from the retched stinging from the wounds on her back. "I must say, it is never a pleasure to see your beastly faces."

It was probably not the smartest thing to say, but she was fueled by anger and contempt. Plus, all she needed to do was wait till the sun broke over the horizon. Just . . . a . . . few . . . more . . . minutes . . .

"Mongrel!" Zenith screeched, smacking her across the face with the back of his claw. It made her jaw ache and she could taste blood on her tongue. "How dare you speak to us that way!"

She really hated griffins.

"My apologies," Isabella responded, dipping her head. "I did not know I treated you with such esteem." And with that she spat on each of their claws, looking back up at them, appearing completely innocent.

Nadir extended deadly sharp black claws that glinted and shined, raised them, and prepared to bring them down upon her face when Zenith grabbed his wrist, stopping him. He whispered something and pointed to a large black spot on the horizon. Nadir nodded, and lowered his claws. Isabella followed their line of vision and watched as the dark spot grew closer, resembling a man with four wings. Maybe it was the heat, but she could've sworn that – even though he was still far away – she recognized him and felt a pulling in her stomach as he grew closer.

As the figure landed, Isabella noticed that it wasn't someone with wings; it was a teenaged boy with two massive black crows digging their claws in his shoulders. His head hung down, but she knew exactly who it was, and it took all her will not to cry out to him.

"Muninn, Huginn," Zenith addressed the humungous ravens respectfully. "I am pleased that you made it without any trouble." One of the crows cawed loudly, its call inaudible to human ears, but the griffin understood it perfectly. "Yes, well, he is the son of Odin. Of course he wouldn't be easy to bring down." They cawed again, growing angry.

The crows – Muninn and Huginn – threw the limp body of Matt down next to Isabella, who, despite her own, bleeding wounds, checked to make sure he was alright as the four creatures conversed.

Matt's eyelids fluttered open, revealing bloodshot eyes. "Isabella?" He slurred quietly.

"Shh," she murmured gently. "I'm going to get us out of here, just hold on Matt, just hold on . . ."

"The crows . . ." He began, but was quickly hushed by Isabella.

"Not now. They can't know you're awake."

The griffins suddenly ripped her away from him, gripping her by her shoulders, their claws digging into her olive flesh. The crows dove for Matt, digging their coal-black claws into his skin, making him bleed even more than he already was. But he made no sound, no move to struggle. Isabella realized not only was he incredibly brave, but he put absolute faith in her, which was risky, because if she was wrong, both of them would be murdered in the harsh heat of the desert.

"Alright, godlings," Nadir screeched in his high-pitched voice. "It's time to take you to our master." The two griffins and two ravens flapped their wings, preparing to take to the air. Isabella shot a quick glance at the east: she needed only a few more seconds . . .

Matt seemed to read her mind as he yelled a war-cry, falling away from the crows vice grip, tearing the flesh of his shoulders. He shot blue sparks at them, which seemed to only distract them rather than do any damage, which was exactly what he wanted.

"Now!" He bellowed, holding out his hand for Isabella.

She tore away from the griffins, leaving them with only strips of thin, soft cotton from her Egyptian dress. She somersaulted towards him, and as she came up out of her roll, she grabbed his pale hand the second the sun broke over the horizon . . .

And the two disappeared in a flash of light.


	10. Kill or be Killed

"We need to contact camp," Thalia said, turning down a different road than where Annabeth was leading them.

"Why?" She questioned, her voice having a little edge in it. "They want us _dead_, Thalia." She turned back to her, and their eyes met. The atmosphere began to smell like ozone as all their hair stood on end. Static rippled through Thalia's black hair, inviting Annabeth to push her, but she didn't.

"We didn't gather an army of half-bloods, nymphs, dryads, and satyrs when we were at camp," Thalia explained. "We need someone who's already there to do it for us."

"Who?" Percy asked. She shot him a smiling glance over her shoulder, but said nothing as they continued on.

They stopped at a giant fountain gushing crystal blue water. Around them, shops were just beginning to open and small alleys led off into the light or joined the street. The ground was made from a lot of smoothed rocks put together, like the streets of Nashville. Despite it being only a few hours after sunrise, only about three people walked through the square before disappearing into their individual locations. Thalia fished in her pocket for a golden drachma. When she found it, she circled the fountain until she found a spot where the sun reflected a rainbow on the mist.

"O' Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, accept my offering!" She announced, throwing the golden coin into the water. It sparkled and shimmered, and Thalia said, "Grover Underwood, Camp Half-Blood."

The image glistened and focused on their old satyr friend standing in a circle of young satyrs, telling them about preserving the wild and their duties to carry on Pan's responsibility when they grew up to be "big goats".

"Grover!" Percy called. He chuckled as he fell down, his red baseball cap falling off, revealing his tiny horns and curly hair.

"Percy? Perrrrrcy!" He bleated. He frowned, turned back to the little goats, and told them that class was dismissed.

"Hey man, we need a favor," Percy said, still bright and joyful for seeing his old buddy again.

"Sure, anything."

"I'm guessing you heard about what happened?"

Grover hesitated, pulling at his hat uncomfortably. "Uh, yeah. The entire camp knows about it. Mr. D wanted to put out a death warrant for you guys, but Chiron postponed it."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Annabeth said, coming into the picture, making Grover grin. "_Postpone_? You mean that we are fugitives to Olympus?"

"Yeah," he mumbled sadly. "Your guys' parents are trying to keep everything in check, but the gods are eager to have your heads on sticks. Ares is gone from Mt. Olympus. He's looking for you. I heard Athena is trying to lead him away while Zeus and Poseidon track him down and bring him back, but . . ."

"Yeah, we get it," she said.

"That's not all," he said grimly. "Mr. D had you three _permanently_ exiled from camp."

"Exiled?!" Annabeth screamed. "Oh, that stupid, little, fat, alcoholic, cherub-wannabe, butt monkey! Ugh! I hate Dionysius for doing this!" Thunder boomed above, but she took no notice of it. She turned and walked out of view of the Iris message, yelling how great it was to be wanted dead by the gods and how Olympus didn't understand that they were its only chance for survival.

"So . . . what did you want me to do?" He asked, trying to raise their gloomy spirits.

Thalia and Percy explained everything they could about the conclave, the other camps, Chaos, and the desperate need for an army. It was vital that all campers and nature spirits got to New York City as fast as possible. Grover shifted uncomfortable, but agreed.

"I'll try my best," he promised. "I know all the satyrs and fauns will listen to me and the water and earth spirits will listen to Juniper, but the demigods will be hard to convince. I'll speak to Silena, ya' know, from the Aphrodite cabin, and Beckendorf; they want to help you guys so badly. Which, speaking of Juniper, I wanted to ask you something, Percy . . ." He sounded nervous about it, which indicated the subject's importance.

"Yeah?"

"Um, you know Juniper, right?"

Percy chuckled to himself. Grover was so bad under pressure. "Yes, I know your girlfriend."

"Yeah, um, well, I was going to . . ." His voice trailed off as the image dissolved back into air, the connection broken.

Percy quickly fumbled around, trying to find another golden drachma, Thalia too, when Annabeth came over, worry on her face.

"Time to go," she said flatly.

"But I have to talk to Grover!" Percy protested.

"Uh, I think Annabeth's right," Thalia said, backing away slowly, her expression grim. "I think we should leave, like, right now." She motioned towards one of the alleys where ten, human-like creatures came prowling out.

They were gray-skinned, with coal-black eyes. Their arms, legs, and torsos were long and thin, yet he guessed they were impossibly strong. They wore long, black cloaks that touched the ground around them, list mist curling off the sea. They were painfully horrifying, and Percy was frozen in terror as they stalked forward, circling the giant fountain but never looking at them directly.

"What in Hades name are they?" He asked, fear-stricken.

"I thought Heracles killed them all," Thalia whispered, pulling Percy along with her.

"I thought so too," Annabeth responded, backing up slowly.

"What _are_ they?" He demanded again.

"Cercropes. They are half man, half beast. They feed off human flesh and our excellent trackers and hunters," Thalia explained. "We could run, but they'll find us."

"What are our options?"

"Stand and fight, or run and get eaten alive," she said emotionless.

"Well then," he said, drawing Riptide, "we have only one choice, don't we?" Thalia drew her spear and Annabeth unsheathed her dagger. "We either kill them, or get killed by them."

"How do we beat them?" Thalia asked.

Annabeth shrugged. "Heracles just beat them up and dragged them to Olympus. I have no idea how we are going to stop them."

Suddenly, Percy and Thalia swayed, staggered, and collapsed to the cobblestone ground, grabbing at their heads in pain. Their vision went blurry, and then went black as there world turned dark. The pain was unbearable, and the visions: the horrible haunting visions that plagued them behind their closed eyelids.

That was when all Hades broke loose.

The giant fountain at the center exploded, erupting into a wall of water.

Thunder boomed above as jagged lightning bolts struck the ground all around them over and over again.

And, without warning, the Cercropes surged directly toward them in one brutal wave of death and murder.


	11. Going Under

Even Eris, the goddess of discord, would've been disgusted by the chaos that broke out in that very moment.

The rushing water of the fountain – which seemed to come and come, never-ending – poured out around the square, pushing many of the Cercropes against brick buildings, crushing them under tons of water.

The air was filled with the smell of ozone as the lightning cracked down from the sky, splitting the cobblestone ground, electrocuting the flesh-eaters, making them double over in pain.

No one could see anything through the blinding flash that seemed to hang all around them, un-wanting to leave. It sizzled and popped every time it came in contact with one of the Cercropes – who were greatly affected by the light.

Percy and Thalia were still crouched on the ground, clutching at their heads that ached immeasurably while Annabeth strained to hang onto one of the few remaining pieces of the fountain, trying not to get blow away by the pounding waves that kept rushing over her.

Matt and Isabella clutched in vain to the sleek cobblestones, trying not to get washed away. They were beaten and bruised, cut and slashed, bleeding and on the brink of death; and Isabella was greatly fatigued from using her magical powers to teleport them away from the griffins and ravens. While all Egyptian half-bloods with knowledge of magic can teleport at sunrise and sunset, she had never traveled so far while so weak before.

And all this was before the fountain cracked and exploded – again – as a horrible monster slid out, carrying an aura of indestructibility and something primordial. Something evil that had no right to exist outside of nightmares.

And they had just released it.

* * *

The beast had the upper body of a woman with coal-black skin that shined like a snake's. Her eyes were an ugly yellow that shot around them, searching for prey. It's long, dark hair flowed out behind it while many dark blue tattoos of random, intricate patterns wove around its arms and torso. Its lower half was that of a massive snake, thick and fat, smooth and sable, the same color as its skin. Where its waist would be, it reared up, staring down at all of them. The humanlike part of its body was massive (the monster was almost as tall as all the buildings around it while it raised its upper body), as the lower snakelike tail was at least twice that length. It roared, revealing giant, sharp, yellowed teeth with a forked black tongue.

"Delphyne," Annabeth whispered in horror, pulling herself up. "But . . . that's impossible . . ."

Percy and Thalia slowly got up, their power-rush over. They exchanged looks, stared at the beast, wide-eyed, then raised their eyebrows at Annabeth in a silent question.

"She is the sister of the monster Typhon," she explained. "I thought the gods had thrown her into Tartarus . . ."

"When you say 'sister of Typhon', does that mean that she will be as powerful as him?" Thalia asked, a stern and stressed expression on her face.

"All the gods together were barely a match for her . . ." Annabeth's voice trailed off in horror.

"Good to know," Thalia muttered sarcastically, whipping out her magic spear. Matt joined her with a similar lance, while Isabella stood by his side, her hands glowing gold-white with magical energy. "Glad to see you've joined us," Thalia said, shooting them a quick glance.

"We have much to report," He said. "A lot has happened." He and Isabella were still covered in wounds, but despite it all, they still stood ready to fight.

Percy ran up beside Thalia, wielding Riptide, pulling Annabeth along. "How do we kill her?"

"No idea."

"Great. No plan, no chance. Just . . . wonderful."

Thalia shot him an angry look. "We have a plan. It's called "Kill the Primordial She-Monster Ugly Thing". Got it?" They nodded, suppressing smiles in that time of great danger.

Then, to much of their horror, many of the Cercropes began to get up in the waist-high water and began to walk towards them, baring their ugly teeth. Delphyne swayed from side to side, hissing like a cobra. She noticed one of the flesh eaters and, in the blink of an eye, struck down and swallowed it whole. The demigods stared in horror at what it did. This was a creature that even the gods couldn't defeat, and here they were, trying to _kill_ it?

"Ready?" Thalia asked them all.

"No," Annabeth whispered.

"Good."

Then, as one, the powerful half-bloods surged forwards, weapons poised, battle-cries breaking the still air.

Thalia brought her spear down into the high water, sending electrical currents racing towards Delphyne. It singed her skin and burned her, but otherwise had no affect. Isabella beamed wave of magical energy at the beast's face and she screamed in agony, clutching at her eye-sockets. Annabeth jumped on her snake back, stabbing her knife over and over again into her spine. Matt summoned a massive flock of ravens – the sacred birds of Odin – and they swarmed around Delphyne's humanlike upper torso, pecking at her eyes and skin while Matt shot arrows of blue energy at her entire body, careful not to hit any of his allies. Percy ran through the water and, at the last moment, called upon a giant wave to thrust him at the monster.

The wave was more like a tsunami.

It carried him past the body of Delphyne and onto her head which was shaking and spinning, trying to get rid of the pecking and clawing birds. Percy raised Riptide high in the air, the celestial bronze glinting in the sunlight, and brought it down right through the skull of Delphyne.

Big mistake.

The she-monster screamed, thrashing and throwing her tail around, keeping the other four half-bloods busy with just trying to stay alive. She brought one of her long-clawed hands up lightning-quick and gripped Percy in a vice grip, refusing to let him go. His arms were pinned against his sides, making Riptide – which now fell to the ground – useless.

Delphyne held Percy inches from her cavernous maw, which now was gaping open, saliva dripped from jagged teeth. Her tongue stretched out towards him, attempting to pull him into her jaws.

"No!" Isabella shouted, shooting rays of magical energy at the monster's face. Its mouth was suddenly filled with a thick, glue-like substance, stopping her from devouring Percy. The daughter of Isis raced towards Delphyne, trying to think of a single spell that could help him.

Annabeth raced up the back of the monster's spine, gripping the back of her hair, pulling herself up closer and closer to Percy. She dug her knife into Delphyne's spinal cord, sending a spasm to run through the beast, momentarily paralyzing it, but she doubted it would last for long.

"Annabeth! Get away! I can handle this!" Percy shouted, thrashing back and fourth in the monster's unbreakable hold.

"Yeah, I can see that," she muttered, crawling higher.

"I mean it, Annabeth, get down!"

"I'm not leaving you, so just shut up and let me help!"

"It's not an option!" Percy yelled. He commanded a wave of water to raise and wash Annabeth down, which it did. He then pushed the water away from Delphyne, creating a large, dry circle around him and the monster, who was beginning to shake off her paralysis.

The four demigods tried to hold onto something as the water pulled them back, but it was hopeless. The currents were too powerful and the rolling waves kept them occupied by trying not to drown.

And on top of it all it began to rain.

Annabeth screamed to Percy, pleading to him, but he just turned away, unwilling to let her see him cry. When he looked back, he spoke words that sent shudders running through them all.

"A hero's doom is never kind. I am the son of the Earthshaker, and this is my fate."

He twisted to look Delphyne in the eye as he dangled fifty feet in the air, still clutched in her claws. She roared, shaking the cobblestone pavement around them and sending ripples to run through the held-back water.

Percy looked down at the once-beautiful fountain that now lay crushed and destroyed. Delphyne's snake-tail was still submerged in the hole that she had surfaced from, and that meant that below them, there was empty space . . .

He stared at the heavens, the furious raindrops burning his eyes, camouflaging his tears. His eyes began to glow a luminescent emerald as Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, sent an earthquake shattering beneath him and the monster Delphyne, obliterating the thin support that kept them up.

And the rain continued to descend as he plunged through the gaping hole that led thousands of feet down into darkness, still clutched in the talons of Delphyne, falling . . . falling . . . falling . . .


	12. Memory and the Muses

Annabeth sat in front of the gaping hole, grasping Riptide in her hands, with tears streaming down her face. Thalia crouched behind her, but, despite her strong appearance, a small tear trickled out of her lightning-blue eye. Matt held Isabella in his arms, massaging her back. While they did not weep for their comrade, they felt the loss and the effect it had on the others. The Cercropes had all either fallen into the crevice, or had been eaten by Delphyne, rendering them moments of peace; and the waist-high water had begun to drain away, leaving them soaked and dripping.

It was around noon when they heard the sound of light footsteps behind them. Matt and Thalia whirled around, spears poised. Nine elegant women – each with shiny black hair pinned into a bun on their head and the same golden eyes – stood before them, white cloaks draped over their shoulders, hoods concealing their faces. One, whom they guessed was the oldest, stepped forward, pulled off her head, and bowed.

"My name is Calliope, and these are my sisters," the beautiful woman said, her voice like the softest velvet.

"The Muses," Annabeth sniffled as she slowly got up. "You are the nine Muses aren't you?"

"Aye, we are my darling Annabeth," Calliope murmured. "You must come with me and my sisters. I understand that you wish to have an audience with my mother?" Annabeth nodded as they followed the nine women out of the square. One of the Muses walked up between Thalia and Annabeth and whispered softly to them.

"My name is Melpomene, the Muse of Tragedy," she said. "I know your lost, but do not worry, it is not what you think." Then she hurried off to join the rest of her sisters at the front of the line. Matt and Isabella fell back next to Thalia and Annabeth, staring worriedly at the nine beautiful women.

"Are these the ones who are going to help us uncover what the third monster is?" Matt whispered.

Annabeth shook her head. "No, their mother is."

"Who is their mother?" Thalia questioned, edge in her voice.

"Uh . . . I think I'll let _her_ tell you that." Thalia shot Annabeth a suspicious glance but said nothing regarding her vague and elusive words.

The nine Muses lead them down winding cobblestone roads, twisting and turning every which way; clean and beautiful buildings towered over the streets, looming above. The Muses didn't speak, but hummed an empyreal melody, the sound like heaven itself. The half-bloods learned there was a Muse for each area of music and storytelling. Melpomene kept comforting Annabeth, telling her about how tragedy isn't always bad and stuff. Thalia wanted to punch them all in the face.

After what seemed like eternity, they arrived at a small antiques shop. There was nothing significant or special about it that made it look like the home of an immortal, but the demigods kept their mouths shut and followed the Muses inside wordlessly.

"This is where the woman who can tell us what the extremely powerful monster is?" Thalia hissed to no one in general.

Annabeth looked at her angrily. "Have respect, Thalia. She could put us all in the dust with a wave of her hand." Matt and Isabella swallowed involuntarily at the unexaggerated threat, but Thalia just scoffed and looked away.

A sharp bell rang out as they entered the nondescript antiques store. The Muses all walked around the small one-room store, finding chairs to sit on. They shed their snow white cloaks and revealed a different color gown for each of them. The four half-bloods looked around uncomfortably. There were old items all around them, but an excessive amount of glass and mirrors. The bell jingled behind them suddenly, making them jump.

A tall woman with a black cloak concealing her features entered the store and walked wordlessly next to Calliope. The nine women all regarded the immortal respectfully, kissing her hands.

"This is out mother," Terpsichore, the youngest of the Muses, said harmoniously to them. "Mnemosyne."

"I've heard that name before . . ." Thalia murmured distantly.

The woman sat down on a three-legged stool and nodded towards her. "I am Mnemosyne. I know all that is past, present, and future. I am the goddess of memory. I was – and still am – one of the twelve Titans."

* * *

Matt, Isabella, and Thalia threw themselves back, brandishing deadly sharp weapons.

Mnemosyne rose and shed her cloak, revealing her true, startling form. She wore a tight, silver dress that shone a rainbow spectrum of colors whenever she moved even the slightest. She was bald, and the iris of her eye shifted and twisted into myriad colors like fire. Where here left eye should've been, a blooming, blossoming flower lay whose color also warped and shaped intricate patterns before changing again. Under her right eye was a large pattern of black lines that spread all the way down her neck and disappeared from view along her dress-line. She carried an aura of power and buzzing energy, but yet a youthful glow and immeasurable lithe, grace, and elegance.

"Stay back!" Thalia shouted in a flat, stern voice.

The Muses responded to the demigods' drawing of weapons and stood defensively, but did not wield any kind of sword or spear. On seeing the perplex on their faces, the eldest Muse, Calliope, answered their silent questions.

"We have no need for weapons of iron, steel, or bronze," she explained. "Our greatest and most powerful attack is within our voices. We can make you fall into eternal sleep; shatter your eardrums; make you fall irrevocably in love; and even convince you to plunge your own blade into your heart." The four half-bloods swallowed involuntarily. "We can make you drop dead before you even begin to attack us."

"Annabeth, why would you bring us here?" Matt asked, shocked and perturbed.

She kept her distant look she had retained since arriving their, staring, unmoving, at Mnemosyne's feet. "She's the only one who can help us . . ." Her voice trailed off as her lip began to quiver and tears stung her eyes.

The Titan of Memory nodded, the slightest movement of her head. "Yes, Daughter of Athena, such is true." She lowered herself down slowly, taking a seat on a chair amid the clutter of glass and mirrors. "But it is too late. I cannot help you" The sharp gasps from all around shattered the silence.

"But our best friend, Percy, son of Poseidon, died looking for you!" Thalia screamed.

"Yes, I know," she said flatly. "I saw what happened today a month ago."

"And you didn't warn them?" Calliope shouted, exchanging worried glances with her sisters.

"My dear," Mnemosyne murmured gently, "it was one of many possible futures. In some visions I saw Annabeth try to save Percy, therefore taking his place as the kill of Delphyne. In others I saw all of you triumph over Typhon's sister, only to be slaughtered by the Cercropes. And in others I saw the two Egyptian and two Norse half-bloods find you and kill you before you could release Delphyne."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Matt said hurriedly. "What do you mean 'two Egyptian and two Norse half-bloods'? Are they _here_, in Nashville?"

"Yes," she whispered quietly.

"Great!" Matt yelled storming around. "We're doomed! The traitors are in the same city as us, trying to hunt us down and kill us! Wonderful!"

"Mnemosyne," Isabella said, kneeling before the Titanic, "What is the third monster that Chaos is going to release? We must know so we can stop it."

"As I said, daughter of Isis, it is too late."

"What do you mean?"

The Titaness sighed, turning to Annabeth. "Do you know the primordial deities that sprang from Chaos herself?"  
"Yeah," she replied, sniffling. "Gaea – Mother Earth, Uranus – Father Sky, Chronos – Time, Aether – Heaven, Eros – Love, Nyx – Night, Erebus – the Underworld, and Tartarus which was the personification of darkness . . ." Her voice trailed off as she suddenly obtained revelation. "That's the third monster, isn't it?"

Mnemosyne nodded grimly. "Chaos and Tartarus were lovers, and now she plans to unleash him – and all the evil monsters kept in his shadowy depths – onto your world."

"Wait," Thalia interjected quickly, "Tartarus? Like, the part of the underworld where all the most evil of all are thrown? How can it be 'released'?"

"Tartarus _was_ a being," Annabeth explained. "Something that could turn into all darkness and everything evil. That's why it became the deepest part of the Underworld. But, believe it or not, Tartarus is as much a prisoner within the Realm of the Dead as Persephone and Hades."

"What's going to happen when she releases him?" Thalia whispered in desperate fear.

"An unimaginable hell on earth," Mnemosyne replied darkly. "But it is too late to stop Chaos. Even if you could stand against her, it would be pointless. As we speak, she is breaking the final chains that bond Tartarus to the Underworld. And once she is finished, she will release him along with Nidhogg and Amehait."

They all froze for a moment, and then Isabella asked: "You know of the Norse and Egyptian worlds?"

Mnemosyne smiled. "My child, the rule of the Titans – and even the early rule of the Olympians – was an age when all the gods of the world lived together on a great island continent that was the center of all our power in the most ancient times. Only later did we realize that our joining together created too much power, and we were too late to save our home from sinking beneath the waves. After our home was lost, all the gods sought out new homes: Mt. Olympus, Asgard, Heliopolis, etcetera."

"That story about your original home sounds familiar . . ." Thalia muttered to herself, thinking hard.

Mnemosyne's eyes sparkled and glowed for a moment, then returned to their rainbow color. "Yes, you will soon learn more about it." She rose and turned away to the window, leaving her cryptic message hanging in the air. "I have told you all I can. You must now leave to New York City and prepare yourselves for battle." She motioned towards Calliope, summoning her to her side. "My dear, you will take them to the train and see that they arrive safely."

"Yes, mother," she bowed and returned to stand among her sisters.

"But before you leave, I must give you the prophecy meant for you." Mnemosyne turned around to face the four half-bloods whom huddled close and shuddered in foreboding. "I wish the fate that must befall you all would not occur, but that is beyond my power. I pray that this prophecy helps you in some way." She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and when she opened them again, they were shining silver coins.

"_You shall be torn apart before the battle begins,_

_Two shall travel to the home of the Immortals to sway their cowardly sins._

_The Son of Odin shall lead you into battle atop an eight-legged steed,_

_To stop the dark abyss, a box once cursed is what you need._

_The Ichor shall gather on the streets of mortals to stop ancient Chaos,_

_The death of many, including a close friend, will be an immense loss._

_And one who is dead shall return again,_

_Only to die for eternal in the end."_

Mnemosyne gasped as her knees buckled beneath her. The Muses ran to assist her, holding her up. When the Titan looked up at them, she seemed incredibly old, dark circles ran under her eyes and her features appeared sunken.

Calliope trotted over to where the half-bloods stood, looks of horror on their faces. "It's time to go. I will take you to the train station." She threw on her white cloak as she walked out the door, but not before casting a look of fear towards her crouched mother.

Thalia ignored Calliope's insistent urges to lead them out of the building, and walked towards the powerful and immortal Titan. "Mnemosyne," she called testingly. She looked up to meet her eyes, her eyebrows raised in question. "Um . . . if you were one of the twelve Titans, why were you not imprisoned like them?"

She sighed, and that ancient aura surrounded her once again. "My dear, all my family is gone save for my nine daughters. All I have is lost, burned and destroyed. Every day I must endure the fact that my brothers and sisters are being tortured in some unimaginable chamber while I am simply bound to this city. And when all you know and love is gone and only you remain, that is a fate worse than any the Olympians can inflict on me." Thalia opened her mouth to say something, but Mnemosyne waved her on. "Go. Time is running out for you and the world of the mortals. Chaos is looming ever closer; you must go."

And Thalia turned quickly, but not because the Titan of Memory told her to, it was so that the ancient and arcane future-seer would not see the tears streaming down her face as she ran to catch up with the others.


	13. Condition Analysis

"I can't go with you guys," Isabella announced suddenly.

The four teenagers stood in the center of the train station as busy people crashed by them in suits and dresses. They were only one train ride away from the heart of New York City – and the battle that would decide the fate of ever single being alive.

There numbers were great, but the horde of Chaos was growing. The enemy had already acquired one-fifth of all the half-bloods throughout all three camps, not to mention several minor deities barely mentioned in mythology. And the rift, which was created by Chaos to pull her three unstoppable beasts – Nidhogg, Amehait, and the newly released Tartarus – was beginning to tear and sputter, signaling that the monsters would be sent through at any moment. All magical creatures, minor gods, and half-bloods that were positioned in New York City were around that one spot, waiting . . .

"What do you mean you can't come with us?" Matt shouted, alerting passing business men and women.

Isabella sighed, looking at her feet. "I have to do something . . ."

"You're bailing out, aren't you?" Thalia yelled accusingly. "I knew we couldn't trust any of you other demigods!"

"Actually Thalia," Annabeth said in a small voice, fingering the pen form of Riptide, "I can't come with you either."

"Great! Why don't we all just leave and let the world fight Chaos by itself!" Thalia stormed off to the escalator and muttered to herself as she disappeared from view above them.

"Guys, you can't just leave us," Matt said more gently.

"It's important," was all Isabella said. She checked her wristwatch, then sighed. "My train is leaving, I have to go." She turned and began to walk away, but ran back to Matt. She looked directly into his eyes, and, for a moment, everything around them disappeared, it was like they were the only ones in the universe. Then, they kissed. Matt pulled away, a smile on his face, that quickly faded.

"Your train is leaving," he said glumly, turning away from her.

"Matt . . ." Isabella moaned, trying to explain.

"No," he interrupted. "Just go."

She stared at him for a while, then turned to Annabeth, giving her a weak smile, before running off to catch her train.

"She had a reason, you know," Annabeth muttered, staring off as the train rushed by.

"I think I better go find Thalia," he said quickly, dashing off before Annabeth could interject. He couldn't talk to her without feeling the sharp thorn in his heart that Isabella had left. He took a deep breath as he took the stairs two at a time, holding back his tears.

When he emerged above ground, he saw Thalia stroking a large abnormal horse. As Matt neared them both, he noticed that it had eight legs, and smiled to himself as he ran up towards it.

"Blindfire!" He shouted, running up to his horse. "When the crows got me, I didn't know what happened to him."

"Isn't this the horse you rode off on at the Conclave?" Thalia questioned, still petting Blindfire between the eyes.

"Yeah," he said dreamily. "Did I tell you where they come from? The eight-legged horses, I mean."

"No."

"Well, my father, Odin, he has a magical horse named Sleipnir, which can gallop over land, sea, and air. It also has eight legs. I guess it's sort of like with the Greek Pegasus: there was one to begin with, but they mated with normal horses, creating a foal in their own likeness," Matt explained.

"Wow, that's really cool," Thalia said, genuinely astounded. "You know what this means though, right?" She added grimly.

"Yes, I do," he said, returned her dark expression. "'_The Son of Odin shall lead you into battle atop an eight-legged steed_.' The line from the prophecy. It means that _I'm_ going to lead us into battle . . ."

"Well, good luck with that!" Thalia joked, patting him on the back. He only smiled half-heartedly at her attempt to break the somber mood. "Look," she said, "why don't we walk the rest of the way to the rift. I doubt they'll let your horse aboard the train anyway. Ok?"

"Sure."

They walked casually down the cement streets, blending in with the crowd. The Mist did a surprisingly good job camouflaging Blindfire the eight-legged horse. They didn't know what the mortals saw – a normal horse, a dog, maybe – but no one even cast them a second glance. The sun was beginning to dip down over the horizon, and they feared that they had little time before the Battle for New York began.

"The odds of us winning are slim, ya' know," Matt said abruptly as they walked quietly past a busy mall.

"Yeah, I know," Thalia agreed. "But if not us, who's going to stop Chaos from taking over the freakin' world? We have surprise on our side though; she doesn't know we know about her attack, or even the fact that we have massed an army against her. That sudden moment of shock as they jump through the rift is all we need to stop them."

"My father," Matt said, seeming to change the subject, "has two pet ravens that fly out every day and scout out everything that happens, and then at the end of the day they come back and tell him what they found. Their names are Muninn and Huginn . . ."

"Um, excuse me for interrupting, but what relevance does this have?" Thalia asked quickly.

"Just listen, ok?" He urged, then went on. "Those two ravens captured me and attempted to take me to Chaos for God knows what reason. But anyway, the point is that those two trusted ravens have betrayed my father – whom they have served for eons – to join the enemy's side, which means that if _they_ would betray my dad, how many other beings and creatures will or already have."

"Oh."

"Yeah, it's not particularly a good thing," he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walked on. They were silent for a while, before Matt shattered the sudden barrier between them. "Isabella is a Catholic, ya' know?"

"Are you serious?" Thalia asked, grinning.

"Yeah," he replied, also smiling. "A very devout one at that. I'm a Christian too, but I'm more of the simpler version. I went to a Methodist church once, when I was younger, so I guess I could be called that. But yeah, we are both Christians."

"Cool, cool."

"You don't believe in God, do you?" Matt inquired, no longer grinning.

Thalia shrugged. "It's just; the gods have forsaken me too many times."

"Maybe because you're praying to the wrong God." He smiled as he walked swiftly ahead of her, stopped in front of a church, examined the outside of it for a while, and then entered.

"What are you doing?" Thalia shouted, but it was too late; he had already gone in. She hurried after him, opening the large doors to the church, peering inside. She saw Matt holding a book, talking to a priest. The priest guy nodded, grinning, as Matt rushed out, saying a volley of thank-you's.

"What did you do?" She asked him as he trotted down the stone steps.

"I got this," he said, holding up a leather-bound book. "It's called the Bible, and I'm giving it to you."

"No thanks," Thalia muttered, walking away from him and back down the streets, Blindfire trotting at her heels.

"C'mon, just read it."

"Matt," she said, whirling around, "if your 'God' and 'Jesus' exist, then why are we in this big freakin' mess with trying to save the world from the primordial being that is Chaos?"

He smiled. "We can't control the past, but maybe if you take this book, you won't be fighting alone in this bloody battle that is to come."

"I'm always alone," Thalia muttered, turning away again.

"But you don't have to be."

She froze in her steps. Something about the way he said that, it intrigued her. And suddenly she felt an unexplainable urge to know all that lay beneath the cover of that book that Matt seemed to hold like it would shatter into a million pieces if he moved it too fast.

"Fine," she said with false annoyance. "I'll take the book, happy?" She turned and began to stride down the street, the Bible clutched in her hands. She had put on the face of aggravation when she had taken the book from Matt, but now, holding it in her two hands and clutching it to her chest, she was beaming.

* * *

"Ok, let's go over what we know," Matt said, pulling out a pad and pencil.

"Alright," Thalia agreed, pondering. "The primordial goddess, Chaos, has unleashed the Devourer of Corpses, Nidhogg, and the croco-hippo-lion-she-beast Amehait as weapons to bring about the downfall of the Olympians, Asgardians, and the gods of Heliopolis, and possibly the other gods that may or may not exist throughout the rest of the world."

"Got it!" Matt shouted with triumph, staring at his notes. "Continue."

"Um . . . and now she's trying to awaken her ancient lover, Tartarus from the pits of the Underworld, which, in doing so, she will break the barrier between the world, shattering any line between what is real and false. They will all attack Mt. Olympus – the heart of Western Civilization – and murder everyone in it. The three beasts will then destroy all of the mortals in a matter of days before Chaos summons her army to the gates of Asgard and Heliopolis."

"Thalia?" Matt asked, his eyebrow raised. "Let's go over what we _already_ know, shall we?"

"Oh yeah, right!" She said, thinking hard again. "Um, we have an army massed in New York City made up of demigods, minor gods, satyrs, nymphs, shapeshifters, and tons of other magical creatures that, together, will be unstoppable against the army of Chaos . . . save for maybe the three primordial monsters, of course. And we have absolutely _no gods_ on our side."

"What about the prophecy from Mnemosyne, should we decipher that?" Matt suggested. "A better understanding of what's going to happen may help."

"Alright," Thalia agreed. "_You shall be torn apart before the battle begins_," she quoted. Then she snapped her fingers, understanding. "I get it! Isabella and Annabeth left! We were 'torn apart', right?"

Matt pulled in his lips, feeling a gaping hole form in his stomach at the mention of Isabella. "What about the line "_Two shall travel to the home of the Immortals to sway their cowardly sins_?"

"I donno."

"Ok, well, the line about "_The Son of Odin shall lead you into battle atop an eight-legged steed_" is clearly understood, correct?" Matt asked, smiling at Thalia's boisterous head nodding. "_To stop the dark abyss, a box once cursed is what you need_." The part about the 'dark abyss' is clear, but the box part I don't get."

"Ugh! I wish Annabeth were here, she knows all about this kind of crap!" Thalia said, throwing her hands up.

"Let's skip that one," Matt said, going over the lines of the prophecy in his head again. "The next few lines are vague and ominous, but the ones about "_one who is dead shall return again, only to die for eternal in the end_" are more or less easier."

"Oh my freakin' gasp!" Thalia exclaimed, suddenly overly excited. "Percy died, remember? And that Muse of Tragedy or whatever told us that his death wasn't what we thought! Maybe he's not really dead!"

Matt bit his lip, unsure how to explain this to her. "Thalia, he fell thousands of feet into the darkness in the sharp clutches of Delphyne, a monster that even the gods couldn't kill. But, even if your hypothesis was true, the prophecy says that he will die for good in the to mention it speaks of the death of a close friend."

She sighed. "Yeah, I guess, but can't we hope?"

Matt's eyes widened suddenly. "Hope! Oh my gods, Thalia, you're a genius!"

"What? What did I say?"

"Remember the line in the prophecy about the box?"

"Yeah . . ." She said cautiously, still not understanding.

"In Greek mythology, isn't there a box? _Pandora's Box_?" Matt said, stressing the last two words.

"Holy Zeus!" Thalia screamed, grinning broadly at their discovery. "Yes!"

"And that means that we have to find Pandora's Box to stop Chaos," Matt said, tapping his pencil against his lower lip. "It's our last chance."

"But how did you think about that when I mentioned hope?" She asked, still perplexed.

Matt rolled his eyes. "When Pandora, the first woman, opened the box and unleashed all the evils of the world, didn't she close the lid just in time to keep hope – the only thing we have left – from flying out, therefore saving it?"

"Yes . . ."

"Well then, that's how I thought of it."

Thalia smiled. "Gosh Matt, you're such a nerd."


	14. One Last Chance

"Will you please explain where we are going and why?" Thalia shot at Matt bitterly. They had been walking around New York City for almost a half an hour and he still refused to tell her where they were going.

"It's a long story . . ." Matt said, turning a sharp corner.

"Something tells me it's a long trip," she shot back, quickly running to stand by his side.

He sighed but relented. "Alright, so, when Pandora was on her deathbed, she gave the box to her daughter, Pyrrha, who later married Deucalion and, together, they were the only two people – in Greek Mythology that is – that survived the Flood. So, Pyrrha passed Pandora's Box down to her daughter, and so on and so forth.

"Later," Matt continued, "when the Greek empire fell and the Romans came to power, the box found its way into the household of the Caesars. When Rome burned, a young servant girl took the box and rescued it. She also passed it down to her daughter, and so on and so forth. When immigrants began to come to America, that blood-line of the servant girl – who still remained in Italy – they too traveled there. That's how the box came to the America's."

"Ok," Thalia said, pondering, "I have two questions: one, how do you know so much about Greek mythology?"

Matt sighed. "Remember that the Egyptian and Norse demigods aren't ignorant to each other as you Greeks are. The gods of our lands told us about each other so that their mistakes wouldn't be repeated. So I've studied Norse, Egyptian, and Greek mythology; so has Isabella."

"Alright," she said, suspicious of his words, "but how does that lovely little tale fit into where we're going right now?"

"Well, the Seasons – Dike, who represents Justice, Eirene who represents Peace, and Eunomie who represents Order – did not trust the modern, foolish mortals to guard Pandora's box, so they set off to track it down. They did, easily, and are now said to protect it here in New York City. They want the box kept close to the Olympians in case someone who intended to use it for the wrong reasons were to come for it," Matt explained. "Now the Seasons are said to reside not far from where we are."

"So these 'Seasons' are like, spring, summer, winter, and fall, right?" Thalia asked.

"No, they aren't," He answered. "They represent order in the universe, which is why Zeus commanded them to protect the box, understand?"

Thalia nodded in agreement. "And exactly where do the Seasons live?" He looked over his shoulder at her, a broad grin plastered over his face, but he did not answer her question as he turned and walked under a red arch into a marketplace.

Chinatown.

"Why the Hades are we here?" Thalia screamed, following close behind Matt.

He laughed. "You know, in the Norse world the goddess of the underworld is Hel, and we make it a joke to say "What the Hel"." He looked at her and saw, as she looked away, that she had a minor smile on her face. "But to answer your question, we are simply going to the home of the Seasons."

"Chinatown? Really?" Thalia asked, a bit of edge and sarcasm in her voice.

He sighed. "Have some faith." She scoffed but said nothing else regarding the subject as they walked through the small community.

All around them people buzzed, selling products and buying items. Surprisingly, there was only one small tofu stand and its business seemed slow. When she commented on it, Matt just looked at her confusingly and asked what kind of prejudicial comment that was, but she ignored him. Steam hung all around them, lit up by vibrant colors of red and green and the occasional yellow. The aroma of expensive spices wafted through the air as they reached a large red and black pagoda. It had seven levels, and, in the dark, it seemed to have a glowing aura around it.

"_This_ is where the seasons live?" Thalia asked, surprised as well as astounded.

"Yeah, what did you expect?" Matt said laughingly. "Some run-down slum?"

"No, just not a _palace_."

He grinned at her comment as he led them inside the towering pagoda. The inside was decorated like an oriental castle, with lanterns, red, black, green, and gold walls, and a beautiful bamboo floor that Matt told her to remove her shoes not to damage it. Light seemed to fill the large pagoda even though only the small lanterns burned. People busied themselves with chores and ran around them as they continued climbing the palace. When Thalia was exhausted from walking and walking up bamboo ladders, Matt announced that they were on the seventh and final floor.

"Thank the gods!" She exclaimed, collapsing to this ground on her back. "I could lay down right here and die!"

"Can you walk just a little further?" Matt pleaded, pulling her to her feet. "We're so close to Pandora's Box now, I can feel the energy from it buzzing around me."

"I don't feel a thing."

"Well, I guess that's because I have power over magic, so maybe that's it," he suggested, leading them down the small room until they came to a raised platform.

Two giant fans separated as the approached. It was so perfect it look like it belonged in movie. As the thick mist thinned out, the two demigods saw three identical women with green, scarlet, and golden kimonos with pale skin and jet black hair pinned up in a bun. They each carried a fan with a Japanese dragon painted on it, but, strangely, at one end of it was the Greek Alpha – the first letter in the alphabet – and on the other side was the Greek Omega – the last letter in the alphabet.

The one in the middle stepped forward, her chin tilted as she stared down her nose at the two bowing half-bloods. "I am Eunomie, the Season of Order," she said with a beautiful, melodic voice that sounded more harmonious than that of the Muses. "My job is to make sure the barrier between what is real and fake stays strong, and to keep each world in its place. I also maintain the path of everything, and make sure that the destiny of all goes to plan. I have felt the shift in power recently, with Chaos – our great-grandmother – attempting to regain power. She has succeeded with the release of Nidhogg and Amehait, but has failed in unleashing her lover, Tartarus from his dark prison."

Matt and Thalia suddenly exchanged a glance. "What do you mean she couldn't liberate Tartarus?" Thalia asked quickly, her brow furrowed.

Another Season stepped forward, ignoring her desperate question. "I am Eirene, the Season of Peace. If Chaos succeeds in taking New York City, then all is lost. The human race will cease to exist and the veil between the worlds will shatter, the thin line between life and death will blur, creating madness and discord. I cannot allow this to happen."

The third Seasons approached them, identical to her two sisters. "I am Dike, the Season of Justice, and I command you, speak, Children of the Gods, tell us why you have entered our domain."

Matt rose to his feet shooting Thalia a worried look. "We have massed an army against Chaos and her dark forces, but we recently gained a prophecy from the Titan Mnemosyne, and she speaks of a box, _Pandora's Box_," he said cautiously. He was unsure of the personalities of the Seasons, but he could feel the buzzing energy all around them and he thought he might go deaf from the sound. Compared to the Titaness of Memory, the three women, individually, were probably more powerful than she would ever be. "And we have come to ask for it. It's our one last chance."

The three immensely ancient goddesses looked at each other fleetingly, but quickly broke the connection. Whatever had passed between them, Matt guessed it was the answer to their question and held his breath in anticipation, knowing that they held the fate of the entire world in the words they were about to say. . .

"We shall discuss this matter and deliver out verdict tomorrow," Dike said, turning away with her sisters.

"Hey!" Matt shouted, his tone angry and forceful, demanding and rude. "What the hell do you mean 'tomorrow'!? The Battle for New York is going to happen _tonight_, you ignorant snobs! If we don't get the box now, the world will crash and burn and Chaos will devour everything that is sane! So pull the sticks out of your asses, and give me the freakin' box!"

They all stood dumbstruck by Matt's words except Thalia, who was watching him with a wide grin plastered on her face, looking like a child on Christmas morning at the way he spoke to the three goddesses. Matt panted for breath, inhaling deeply and exhaling the same. The Seasons had their bodies halfway turned towards him, and now looked down at him with burning eyes. In the second he looked into them, he saw the history of the gods from their point of view and other things too: blood, death, murder, sorrow, and the loss of love, which the Seasons new only too well.

"Son of Odin," Eunomie, Season on Order, said emotionless, "do you understand who you are commanding?"

"Yes," Matt said confidently, "and I take full responsibility for my actions, but I'm not leaving without Pandora's Box."

"Very well," she replied, smiling, revealing needle-point teeth. "Otherwise you would not be worthy of it." Thalia and Matt exchanged a confused glance. "You see, that was all a test to see if you would do anything to obtain the box to save your world, which you clearly will go to any extent to do so. And we see in your soul that you will use it for the right reasons."

"But how am I supposed to use it?" Matt asked quickly, attempting to learn as much as he could from the three incredibly ancient goddesses.

The Seasons ignored him as they turned to face each other, joining hands in the center of the triangle that they formed. A blinding light began to form around them, and Matt and Thalia knew well enough to look away. When the light died, they turned back to see Dike standing in front of them, holding Pandora's Box.

_Jar_ is more the word. It was roughly a foot high and about seven inches wide with an oval-like shape. It was jet-black with gold and gray inscriptions on it that predated humanity and even the Olympians. Pandora's Box emanated power and energy, and, before even holding it, Matt could feel himself shake.

"We have deliberated, and we chose to fight in this battle that is looming on the horizon," Dike explained. "We shall travel there and await your arrival."

Eirene, the season of Peace, approached them then and kissed the top of each of their heads'. "I bid you a peaceful and safe journey to wherever you are headed. While I cannot guarantee victory of this battle, I can make sure that you get there safely."

"Thanks," Thalia muttered, rolling her eyes.

The Seasons turned and a blaring white light shined around them as they teleported to the destination of the rift and where the final battle would take place.

The two half-bloods exchanged a glance, staring at Pandora's Box in Matt's hands. Then the two ran out of the pagoda, tearing down the street in earnest, running off into the bloody sunset; running off into the face of Chaos.


	15. Arrival at the Rift

Matt and Thalia ran through the New York streets frantically.

They had been sent a rainbow, fluorescent butterfly from the Seasons, guiding them to where the rift was. They had lost the leading creature several times, their minds too filled to actually concentrate on the world around them. The butterfly cut a quick corner, the two demigods following behind it speedily . . .

. . . and froze.

The insect had disappeared – its mission completed. It was what lay before them that made them stop in their footsteps, mouths gaping open. In sprawling, bustling chaos was Times Square. It was filled with cars and taxis, pedestrians and bikers. Half-bloods and semi-human magical creatures ran around, trying to get the people out of the area without success. The two of them saw a jet black line in the air far below them. It was rippling and twisting, dark veins of energy clawing away from the center line. Waves of power flowed off it towards them, making their hair stand on end.

"The Rift," Matt whispered in horror. "It's opening."

"All these people," Thalia murmured, looking at all the cars and people, "they'll be killed if they don't get out of here before the portal opens and Chaos' army escapes. We have to help them, warn them . . ."

"How?" He said quickly, grabbing her wrist. "They've already tried, and failed. What're we going to tell them, hmm? Not the truth, that's for sure. The only thing we can do is prepare for battle." Thalia swallowed and nodded her head silently, agreeing with him.

They tore across the streets, heading for the black slash that the mortals around them seemed to be oblivious to. Matt knew that the Mist was good at veiling the magical world from the eyes of humans, but would it be able to shield two giant, primordial monsters from hell? And if so, would it cover them up so well that the mortals didn't even run away, just stood there as the beasts came forward, destroying everything in their path. And what if they couldn't stop them or even Chaos' army? What were they thinking, trying to destroy some of the most powerful beings in the history of the universe? They were doomed, utterly doomed . . .

"The Arcana are ready," Hula, a daughter of Apollo, said, running up to them. "We are all ready to fight, just waiting on you and . . ." She paused, looking behind them. "Where's Percy and Annabeth?"

"Later," Thalia dismissed, hurrying past the girl and towards the massing army of magical beings that surrounded the black rift and clotted the streets.

"Wait," Matt said, "what's the Arcana?"

Hula looked at him like he was insane. "It's what we have called our army. It comes from the word arcane, meaning secret or hidden. We are a militia of beings that are unknown to the mortal world."

"Wow," he said, "impressive."

"Thanks."

He followed her into the horde of people and creatures in close range, standing before the dark cut through the air. It seemed to throb more violently now, shaking and throwing more energy out than before. Matt stood beside Thalia at the front of the line with all the other cabin leaders and some of the creature-leaders. They all brandished at least two weapons of celestial bronze. Some of them wore armor, but mostly they were lightly-clad. He guessed they all knew if they were all crushed by a thousand toned, prehistoric monster, armor wouldn't exactly help.

Blindfire trotted up to Matt, who patted him between the eyes, quietly soothing him. It nudged him, his eyes pleading. Matt smiled as he unsheathed his spear, making the eight-legged horse feel more comfortable knowing that his master was better protected.

Thalia looked directly ahead of her, a fierce and concentrated look on her face. The truth was, though, that she was terrified. Being a Hunter, she was immortal, unless slain in battle, like the one she was leading right behind the son of Odin. She turned to Matt, wondering how he could bear so much and yet remain so calm and collected, powering through every obstacle, staring the next challenge right in the eyes. She wished she could be more like him, although she did pray that his prowess wouldn't get himself killed like so many other heroes.

Like Percy.

Thalia swallowed involuntarily. Why had she suddenly thought of him? Ever since he had plummeted to the infinite darkness with the monstrous Delphyne, her thoughts always seemed to stray back to him and his death. She wondered how Annabeth was feeling about the loss of possibly the only boy she had ever loved.

She unknowingly ground her teeth together at the thought of how she had deserted them in a great time of crisis along with Isabella. She turned and looked at Matt again, knowing that he still had strong feelings for the daughter of Isis. Even through everything they had been through since the two demigods had left them, Matt still loved her and wanted – needed – her to come back. Thalia wondered how he could be so faithful to someone who had left him to be eaten alive by Chaos herself.

Suddenly, they all grew quiet, looking around them. There was a sharp and irritating buzzing in the air that sent waves of static around them. It radiated of immortal energy, and it sent fear coursing through each and every one of them. This was it, Matt thought, the beginning of the end.

Without warning, a sharp golden flash echoed all around them, blinding them with immeasurable power, bringing each and every one of them to their knees; save for Matt and Thalia, who stood, spears poised, waiting for the evil to come . . .


	16. The Ichor Assemble

The golden light around them slowly faded, white sparks of energy rising from the ground. In front of the Arcana – the army – stood around a hundred powerful looking beings that radiated power, deadly weapons of various shapes and sizes were grasped tightly in their hands. The air buzzed around them from the force that was before them, and the scent of ozone burned their nostrils. The atmosphere around them seemed to shake, and it felt like the very essence of life would be torn apart at any second by the immense vigor that was the militia facing them now.

Immortals.

Every last one of them.

From Zeus to Athena, Bastet to Seth, Odin to Hel, every single major god and goddess from the mythology of the Greeks, Egyptians, and Norse stood before them, energy pulsing out from them. They had come to stand against their great-grandmother: Chaos.

And standing among them was Isabella and Annabeth.

The two ran over to Matt and Thalia whose eyes bulged and mouths hung open. Annabeth tackled Thalia in a giant embrace while Isabella walked slowly up to Matt, who turned away, eyes closed. She reached out to touch him, but he pulled away, ignoring the desperation and confusion on her face.

"Holy Zeus!" Thalia screamed, jumping up and down with Annabeth. "What are doing here? We thought you had deserted us for good!"  
"Of course not!" Annabeth replied, smiling broadly. "I had to convince the gods – the Greek ones that is – to stand with us. I got the idea from Isabella, who was going to confront the Egyptian gods."

"But what are _you_ guys doing here?" Matt inquired, staring past Isabella, speaking to the Norse immortals. "Why'd you change your minds?"

Odin, his father and chief of the gods, stepped forward, clapping a large hand on his son's shoulder. "Hah! We have been preparing for battle ever since we learned of Chaos' return to power! Us Norse men never give up the chance to display ourselves in a battle!" He held his clenched fist up, the Norse men roaring a war cry, the women just scoffing. "And then of course the lovely ladies of Asgard are equally powerful, and will not stand by while their husbands fight to defend the world." This time Frigg, the queen of the Norse gods and wife of Odin, and the other women nodded their heads in approval and stood a little taller.

"But how'd you find out that Chaos was attacking New York?" Matt said, staring intently at the gods.

This time Hel, goddess of Nifliheim and the dead, spoke. "Nidhogg was trapped in my realm. He is a primordial beast, carrying much ancient power. The second his presence left my realm, I felt the shift in energy, and alerted Odin immediately."

"And," Odin continued, "We just trailed Nidhogg here."

"My daughter tells me that Chaos has unleashed Amehait," Isis, the most powerful immortal in Egyptian mythology, said, standing behind Isabella. "Is this true?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Thalia confirmed grimly, shooting a sidelong glance at Zeus.

A dark figure in dark cloth and a strange, two-pronged spear stepped forward. Hades, Lord of the Underworld. "And what of Tartarus? He is a primal being, yes, but he is so powerful that he could easily leave a false presence behind to disguise his escape . . ."  
Thalia shook her head. "The Seasons informed us that it is still trapped in its dark, rotting prison where his damned ass will stay for the rest of eternity," she said, grinning.

"Good," Zeus said, clapping his hands, sending a volley of thunder booming across the sky. "Chaos will arrive with her army shortly. I do not know if we will be able to stand against her, Nidhogg, and Amehait, but we must try."

"I hate to rain on this little parade," Athena interrupted, stepping forward. "But the last time all of us came together, the world almost ended."

"It _did_ end, genius," the Egyptian god Geb muttered under his breath.

Athena shot him a deadly glance, and then continued. "Our home sank beneath the dark waves. The five elements conspired against us, destroying our home, obliterating our first palace, the Pyramid of the Sun. It was because of that that we decided to separate and resign to our individual corners of the earth. The world ended then, what's to keep the same results from happening with us coming together again, especially with three other powerful beings coming?"

Multiple gods opened their mouths to answer, but Matt interrupted. "What is this place that_ everyone_ keeps referring to? You _all_ keep talking about a paradise that_ all_ the gods lived on eons ago, but_ I've_ never even heard of it let alone know it existed!

Bastet, the Egyptian cat-headed goddess, was the one who answered him. "My boy, you have heard of it. The people of ancient Ireland called it the De Dannan Isle, the Hebrew knew it as Eden, the Greek and Egyptian people documented it extensively, and the Norse told of it in countless tales. Many referred to it as Danu Talis, but we gods called it Atlantis: the Home of the Immortals."

Every single mouth of the demigods dropped open in shock.

"Atlantis?" Matt stuttered, unable to conceive the idea. "But . . . that's just a . . ."

"A myth?" Bastet said, fixing her feline muzzle into a grin. "Are we not _all_ a myth? A legend made up by the mortals to explain the unexplainable? No, Mathew, it is not a myth. It once existed, but, because of our foolish arrogance, the greatest thing ever to exist sank beneath the black waves on that one fateful day."

"The question still remains," Athena said, edge in her voice, "what is to keep_ this_ continent from being destroyed by our assembly?"

"My daughter," Zeus said, resting a hand on her shoulder, "if we do not come together as one army to stand against Chaos, she will destroy our world and the world of the mortals. Nidhogg and Amehait will feast on the entire human population and still hunger for more. Tartarus will be released and bring Hell onto earth that none will be able to comprehend, and, while nothing can compare to the death and destruction of Atlantis, the loss will be extensive. We have no choice but to join together, stand, and fight."

Thalia and Matt exchanged a worried glance, trading multiple distressed thoughts between each other. It was a great risk to bring most of the immortals together. All of North America and possibly even South America could be destroyed even if they were victorious. And why did they all talk about the gods as if there were more? Weren't three different classes of immortals enough? But what if there _were_ more gods, then where were they? Why weren't they still shifting in and out of the mortal world? And what of Atlantis? What had _really_ happened on that day, the day the world ended and the paradise was destroyed? Both demigods knew that the gods weren't telling them the whole story of what caused the Fall of Atlantis.

A sharp rupturing sound echoed all around them, breaking their reverie. All of the Arcana – the army of demigods and semi-human beings – the Cryptica – the militia of the intelligent beasts and creatures – and the Ichor – the gods' when they were ready to defend all they had and all they stood for – ceased speaking and took up battle stances.

All of them fell into order as the stood before the shaking black slash in the sky as it shook and threw out veins of dark energy that slowly tore at reality. Power radiated from it but was combated from the immense vigor produced for the gods. The world seemed to hold it's breath as they waited, trembling in horror and foreboding.

And then, suddenly, the Rift shattered.


	17. The Battle for New York: Part 1

Chaos.

It was in the army that poured forth from the shattered rift. It was in the scattered and scurrying military of magical creatures. It was in the demigods as they tried to decipher which half-bloods were from their own side and that of the enemy's. And it was in the gods as immeasurable energy flowed from them, aimed at their attackers.

It was hell.

Matt sat on Blindfire, charging towards the rift as the horde of Chaos poured out. He whipped out his spear, raising it high in the sky, signaling to the militia behind him. They charged forward, the son of Odin leading them into battle.

Thalia ran swiftly by his side, lashing out with her spear, striking demigods and semi-human beasts. She had no problem killing the beings that came forth from the rift for she knew that they threatened all she stood for and all she defended, and there was no chance in Hades she was going to stand aside and let them take everything from her.

Many of the gods who were profound in certain levels of magic – Persephone, Freya, and even the all-powerful Titaness, Hekate – were working quickly, attempting to stitch back up the rift and close it off. Despite all the magical energy used towards it, the portal only opened farther as more and more of Chaos' army rushed forth. It seemed that the magic of the primordial deity was far beyond that of the gods.

Where _was_ Chaos, anyway, Thalia wondered as she stabbed the point of her spear up through the gap of a demigod's breastplate, severing an artery, leaving him dying and bleeding behind her. Wasn't this army that came thundered at them _her_ military? Why was she not coming? Had she no honor?

"This isn't the real militia," Annabeth said suddenly, running up beside Matt and Thalia, answering her silent question. "It's a decoy. Chaos will unleash Nidhogg and Amehait when all the warriors here are dead and then she'll send out her real gladiators to finish the rest of us off who managed to survive the primordial monsters." She looked at each of them, her expression grim. "We're playing right into her hands."

"What about the rift?" Matt asked, twirling his spear like a baton while still striking down passing foes as they neared the black portal. "Can it be closed?"

"Some of the gods are trying to, but . . ." She shook her head, not trusting herself to go on. "It doesn't look good. If we can't close it before . . ."

"Get Isabella," He said sharply and commanding. "Tell her that she needs to find Isis so she can close that freakin' rift. She has immense power over magic, she should be able to." He looked at Annabeth, who nodded before running back into the throng of battle, fighting her way through. Matt turned to Thalia, who still ran swiftly by his side. "Are you with me?"

"Till the death," she replied without hesitation.

"Good," he muttered, "cause' that's what it looks like we're headed for." He threw out his hand to her, swinging Thalia onto the back of Blindfire, who was overjoyed to carry her.

Together, as they rode the eight-legged steed, they were invincible. Matt's skill with his spear was incredible, and his power over magic was a great help to them. He commanded the legion of Dire Crows that served his father, Odin. They were massive, deadly, and almost un-killable creatures that were apt at attacking the massing army of beasts that was the first, minor wave of Chaos' army. Thalia also held high talent with her spear, and her manipulation of lighting was useful, too.

"What's the plan?" Thalia asked as she struck over a dozen demigods with the same bolt of lightning.

"It was originally to enter the rift, but our sources tell us that they portal is a one-way thing," he answered, biting his bottom lip as Blindfire reared, kicking a black, shaggy satyr square in the face. "So that plan is out."

"So basically, we're just hoping Isis and some of the other gods can stitch up the rift, correct?"

He turned back to her, a grim expression on his face. "Chaos wasn't able to awaken Tartarus because she lacked certain resources. If she steps through that rift, there will be no stopping her from . . ." His voice was cut off as a steel arrow plunged into his heart, throwing him from Blindfire, into the discord that was the battle raging around him, threatening to crush him alive. . .

* * *

Isabella spun around, smashing the incredible amount of energy held in her hand straight through the skull of a hideous harpy. It spun back, golden liquid leaking from its eyes as she slowly collapsed, her body turning into a fine dust, caught in the wind.

She had been fighting for a long time, and she was beginning to tire. She knew if she used up too much of her magic, she could be afflicted by spontaneous human combustion: the strange occurrence of a person suddenly erupting in flames and being burnt from the inside out . . . or worse, the outside in.

She created a whip of energy, batting away several demigods and turning over three dozen monsters into ash. The energy-rope twisted and shuddered, moving on it's own free will, lashing out at all of Chaos' army but refraining from even touching any of the Arcana, Cryptica, or Ichor.

Her glowing hands dimmed as Annabeth came running towards her, plunging her dagger up through the throat of a Catoblepas – an Egyptian creature that vaguely resembled a giraffe, except for overlarge fangs and glowing red eyes – before racing up to Isabella's side, panting, her blade tipped with dripping blood, her forehead drenched in sweat.

"Your mom . . . Isis . . ." she panted between gasps of air, "You have to . . . get her. She's the only one . . . who can close the rift."

Isabella nodded, whirling around to use a very effective incantation on a were-lion, forcing him back into human shape. As the nude figure writhed and twisted at her feet, the brutal, forced transformation fighting his primal instinct to stay human, Isabella saw, at a dangerously far distance, Thalia, crouching over a blood-soaked body that held an aura of familiarity about it . . .

"Get my mom, tell her to close the rift," Isabella said quickly, staring at the limp and crimson body.

"But . . ." Annabeth protested, but she was already gone.

Isabella raced through bloody fighting and ugly scourges, running through thick puddles of blood and jumping over pale bodies. What was happening? They were killing their own kind just to preserve themselves. They were destroying their family and friends for the "greater good". And they were descending into anarchy.

Was it really worth it - all the wounds, blood, and death – was what they were doing the right thing to do, or was there something else making them stand there, looking into the face of Chaos? She knew the gods were hiding something about the battle and Chaos' sudden thirst for power but were reluctant to share it. And why was it that even though the outcome – for now – looked bright for them, the gods seemed so grim, carrying auras of foreboding. She had a dark premonition that even if they did win the Battle for New York, the consequences would be dire and their quest for peace among the nations was far from over. She, Matt, and Thalia were just beginning their conquest for knowledge in the ancient world of the gods.

If they lived that long.

* * *

"Matt!" Thalia screamed, kneeling down by his side. The iron arrow was plunged deep into his heart, blood – too much blood - pouring from the wound, a small trickle from his mouth. His pulse was slowing, and his heart would occasionally flutter but otherwise remained slow and dying. She knew he needed help soon or he would die.

"Matt!" Isabella yelled, falling down beside him, golden light already consuming her hands. She held his head on her lap, moving her fingers gently around the wound. "He's losing a lot of blood. I need to pull out the arrow so I can seal up the wound." Thalia nodded, understanding. She held his hand, squeezing hard. His eyelids lifted briefly, staring up at Isabella before closing again. She vowed it would not be the last time he opened his eyes, by Zeus she would not let him die!

Isabella grasped the small arrow with both hands, cringing at the thought of what she had to do. She took a deep breath, then pulled.

The air was suddenly filled with the sounds of Matt's cries of pain.

Blood poured even faster now from his chest, but Isabella just laid her hands atop his chest, forcing all her magical energy into him. Gold light slowly surrounded his body and hers, enclosing them in a cocoon of pure energy . . .

The luminosity slowly receded as Matt pulled himself to his feet. He raised his spear precariously, wobbling from side to side. Thalia and Isabella held him up by the shoulders, careful to not touch his wound. Where the arrow had penetrated his flesh and entered his heart, only a large, shiny gash remained, pink and sore. The pain was excruciating for him, but he was not ready to admit that. Isabella needed all her power to defend herself, not healing him. Plus, her magic could only do so much.

"Matt," a slick, hissing voice said behind them. "I should've known your little brat friends would save you."  
As they turned, they saw the ugly figures of Alice, Jason, Lauren and Ben: the traitors. It had been the daughter of Hel – Alice – who had spoken, a deadly scimitar in her hands. A small sword was gripped tightly in Jason's shaking grasp, the two Egyptian half-bloods just crouched, ready to take their pure animal form.

Then they attacked.

Matt flung himself to the side as Alice rushed him, screaming furiously. He smacked her in the back of the head with the flat side of his spear, sending her sprawling. She quickly recovered, sending a gale of ice-tipped wind at him which he combated with a magical spell he had learned from a rather sociable Fire Giant in Manitoba. He sent a wave of fire whipping through the wind she had created, the flames lacing the airstreams with heat and forced them back upon her. She fell back; clawing at her face as fire slowly surrounded her.

Isabella used her rare ability to grow wings connected to her arms (which she inherited from her mother) and immediately took to the sky as Ben and Lauren changed shapes into a ravenous wildcat and a flashing falcon. She swerved as Ben came soaring towards her, yellow beak glinting in the setting sun. The lowering, red orb of light was signaling the beginning of the end – the Battle for New York – as it painted the sky in blood.

Thalia charged Jason, sparks and tendrils of electricity shooting around her spear. He swung with his short sword, but she easily dodged it, swinging around to his back and kicking him behind the kneecap, bringing him to the ground, howling in pain. She kneeled down, positioning her spearhead along his throat like a knife.

"Do you remember when we first met," she spat, her words like acid. "I tried to kill you." She felt the pressure against the spear as he swallowed in fear. "And now I'm going to finish the job." She ripped the spearhead back, slicing open his throat in a morbid display of spurting blood. She would normally have never done such a painful thing, but the son of Loki had betrayed them all and she knew that was the worst crime one could commit, and it sickened her. She felt no remorse for him, only disgust for the weak, wretched being that now lay in a limp pile at her feet, surrounded by a pool of his own blood, unmoving, un-breathing.

Thalia turned to see Matt slowly breaking under Alice's force, but she seemed to only want to weaken him, not kill him. She saw Isabella weaving a complex pattern in the sky that looked more like some kind of intricate, ritualistic dance than a fight. Ben held a burning stick in his talons which he swung precariously close to her head. Isabella easily combated with myriad spells, cantrips, and incantations; although it seemed that Ben only wished to make her collapse and give up rather than kill her, just like what Alice was attempting to do to Matt . . .

Then, without warning, Thalia was on the ground, the growling, wildcat form of Lauren standing on top of her, her razor-sharp claws gently pushed against her neck. She could feel her own pulse pump beneath the pressure of Lauren's maul and it made her shudder.

From the corner of her eye, Thalia saw a small, sparkling, winged form fall to the ground, golden mist coiling all around it. She heard the cawing shrieks from whom she prayed was Ben and not Isabella. There was a sudden quiet that alarmed her, than an eruption of sound as a glowing silver ball of energy careened into Lauren, throwing her off of Thalia.

Isabella helped her up, golden coils of energy weaving their way around her arms. She smiled, but it seemed more of reassurance than happiness. She trotted over to where Lauren lay – squirming uncontrollably like she was having a seizure – and held her hand against her animal forehead. Light surrounded them both as Isabella worked an incantation against her, magic encompassing them as the spell was completed.

"What did you do?" Thalia asked quietly as she walked to her side away from the still body of Lauren, still in her cat form.

"I simply extracted her soul and sent it to the afterlife," she replied mournfully. "I cannot kill my own kind, Thalia, not in blood." She turned to see the gruesome body of Jason lying not far away. "I understood why killed him, but in such a fashion . . ." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I know you did what you had to and it is not my place to judge."

"Oh my gods!" Thalia yelled suddenly, her eyes growing wide as she whirled around. "Where's Matt?"

"There!" Isabella said, pointing to a figure lying on the ground, unmoving.

They tore through the battlefield, multiple times having to protect themselves from myriad nightmarish beasts. As they neared, they confirmed darkly that the body was really Matt's, and tears began to sting their eyes. They bent down to pick up him up, and gasped . . .

Underneath him was Alice, her eyes wide in terror, a broken piece of metal thrust deep into her heart. She was dead.

They lifted Matt up, balancing him between the two of them, and marveled at how brave he was: he had risked exile when he stole away to the Conclave, he escaped the Norse camp as it was overrun by Chaos' soldiers, endured the torture and pain caused by his father's own two most trusted pets, Muninn and Huginn, he fought the indestructible Delphyne even after he had been mortally wounded and almost killed in the deserts of Death Valley, he led them to New York, where he single-handedly confronted the Seasons and demanded Pandora's Box, and then he still came back and led them all into a battle that they were destined to lose. And then he had almost been murdered, yet he still fought, killing the one who had plunged the arrow into his heart. And here he was, balanced between them, trying still to be brave for the sake of them all.

They turned as a shuddering sound came from behind them, screams and yells echoing all throughout the battlefield at something unseen, but the evil it pushed forth in waves of dark energy sent the message clear: something – ancient and powerful – was coming.

The rift was shaking violently, and then, in one sudden eruption, it exploded as the two, primordial monsters that they had so fervently feared entered New York City.


	18. The Battle for New York: Part 2

Chaos.

It was in the monstrous beasts that slowly stormed forth from the rift. It was in the armies of the gods swarming around the creatures, attempting hopelessly to force them back through the dark portal. It was in the few mortals that remained on the battlefield as they ran quickly away, shooting terrified glances backwards. And it was in the maniacal laughter from beyond the rift as something watched New York City being attacked by two brutes that it could never hope to destroy.

Nidhogg.

While it resembled a komodo dragon, they only grew to be around ten feet, but this monstrosity was easily fours times that size. Its body was covered in a thick, knobbled hide; its form huge and muscular as it slowly walked forward on its four, giant-clawed legs. Its head was slablike, with two rounded nostrils on the end of a blunt snout directly over its mouth and solid black eyes sunk deep behind circular depressions on either side of its skill. A long, white tongue shot out, testingly, as it moved deeper into the militia of the Arcana, smashing its giant tail back and forth into buildings, shattering windows, destroying entire corners of the structures as they swayed precariously back and forth, threatening to give in to gravity and come crashing down.

Amehait.

It was of equal size to Nidhogg, but in form it couldn't have been more different. Its head was that of a crocodile's, with a long face, its jaws taking up over half of its head with large, yellowed teeth pressed against the rough hide of the reptilian mouth. Its eyes were beady and appeared human except for the golden hue of its irises, which indicated an ethereal intelligence that sent waves of fear through them. At the base of its neck was a lion's mane, with a leopard's upper torso, complete with black claws. The lower section of the beast belonged – strangely – to a hippopotamus while the tail matched that of a lion. Although the monster looked like a freak accident, it was the most terrifying thing they had ever seen.

Scratch that: Nidhogg and Amehait careening towards them, jaws gaping wide – impossibly wide – as they roared and smashed anything caught underfoot was the most terrifying thing they had ever seen.

Matt, Thalia, and Isabella stared up in horror as the beasts came closer and closer. Struck by fear, they were frozen in place as the primal beings came forward, thirsting for the souls of any who stood in their way, which just so happened to be the three demigods.

Thalia recovered first, shaking the other two rapidly, yelling to them to snap out of it. They shook their heads, clearing them, and Isabella and Thalia led the hobbling Matt back as fast as they could. He urged them to go ahead, telling them he would stand against the creatures, but they denied his request, forcing him onward.

The Ichor and Arcana regained their bravery, surging forward, slashing and cutting at the tough hides of Nidhogg and Amehait with no avail. Even the gods' power seemed to do little against the primordial beasts.

Isabella laid Matt down while she went to work attempting to heal him so that he could return to the battle. She had a dark inkling that if Matt died – or even was unable to fight – the Battle for New York would be lost. His importance was noted in the Prophecy of Mnemosyne, therefore he was of great significance and she would not let him die.

"How can we defeat them?" Thalia asked, spear poised, staring out as the armies hopelessly attacked the beasts, only enraging them as they charged forward through Times Square, destroying anything that came near them. Well, she noted, at least they didn't breathe fire.

And at that moment, Nidhogg released a deafening roar that shattered every single window, raining an infinite amount of glass atop them.

"Even the gods couldn't kill these things," she went on, slowly rising from where she had shielded Isabella and Matt from the glass-storm. "They just imprisoned them. So how can _we_ expect to stop them?"

"Remember," Isabella said, working quickly with Matt's rapidly healing wounds, "The gods imprisoned these beasts after the Fall of Atlantis, after they had all went their own ways. They're united again, so maybe they can . . ."

A loud explosion cut off her words as a tall building came crashing down on top of Amehait, who simply shook its head and kept moving, unphased by the impact.

"Great!" Thalia yelled. "We're doing Chaos' work for her! Destroying New York, not defending it!"

Matt suddenly sat up, gasping. He looked between the faces of Thalia and Isabella as if he didn't know them. He shuddered as a cold gale whipped through the air around them and the air seemed to fill with moisture. He tasted the air with his tongue, discovering its flavor remarkably resembled saltwater . . .

And at that moment the street they were so exhaustingly sitting at erupted in an explosion of concrete and rubble, adding irrevocably to the chaos.

* * *

Annabeth whirled around just in time to see the pillar of dust cover the entire street, cloaking it in a swirling mass of debris.

She knew Thalia and Isabella had taken Matt there so that they could heal him, but had they been able to get out in time, or were they victims of the storm that plumed around that spot. She could see something large – massive – moving around through the cloud, but it seemed to be going in circles, almost like it was pulling its entire body out of the giant hole it had created in the street. Almost like it was _slithering_ around, pulling its _snake_ body out from the hole . . .

Without warning, Delphyne, roaring a battle-cry, shot forth from the dust cloud with a black bridle attached to her head, the reins grasped tightly in the hands of a dark silhouette standing precariously on her shoulders, commanding the she-beast.

Percy Jackson.

* * *

Thalia forced all her power into creating a furious wind that whipped around the sand and dirt in the air, forcing it backward, away from them. She saw an immense crevice in the ground, created by something equally large; something powerful . . .

Her eyes slowly rose, seeing Delphyne – with her human torso and her snake tail where her legs and waist should've been – with a very familiar figure riding atop her. With the sun almost completely set, she couldn't make out any definitions, but she had a clear idea of who it was, and her face lit up.

Her expression suddenly turned grim as Matt – healed – laid his hand on her shoulder, motioning towards Nidhogg and Amehait who were still moving forward, destroying all in their wake. She nodded, silently understanding. Isabella joined them, flanking Matt, who now brandished an ugly whip: his spear had been snapped in half while fighting Alice. Cerulean sparks of energy crackled around his left hand, tendrils of indigo energy swirling up his arm as blue flames burst to life in his grasp, weaving intricate patterns in the twilight. Isabella responded by creating globes of golden light swirling all around her while she thought of the most effective spell she knew. Thalia whipped forth her spear, electricity zapping its way around it and twisting through her raven hair.

Matt nodded wordlessly at Percy before the four of them charged forward, daringly approaching Nidhogg and Amehait. The two primordial monsters must've felt the power that radiated from the four demigods, for they hesitated for a brief moment before continuing on their warpath.

They watched desperately as Amehait growled, striking out at a squad of half-bloods, sending them flying hundreds of feet to their death. The Egyptian monster shook its head as it moved forward, as if trying to shake something. They saw Isis and Odin standing before the beast, chanting an ancient spell, attempting to hold it.

Nidhogg surged onward slowly. It seemed impassive to anything they did to it and just wanted to move, to crush and destroy anything caught in its path. They learned that its tongue – white and lightning-fast – carried acids that ate through practically anything it touched: metal, wood, concrete, armor, flesh, everything.

They were beginning to realize there was no hope.

Then, suddenly, Matt received revelation, withdrawing Pandora's Box from Thalia's backpack where he had placed it. Before, when they fled Chinatown to come to the Rift, he had placed a charm on the box that linked it to her like Riptide was linked to Percy: no matter how or where she lost it, it would come back.

The black jar shuddered in his hands with power, and he knew it was their only hope. Isabella looked at him skeptically, feeling the energy emanating from it, wondering what could produce so much vigor, but decided not to interrupt whatever he was doing.

Matt fumbled with the box, unsure of what to do with it. The Seasons had told him they knew he would use it for the right reason, but he had no clue what that reason was or when it would be needed. Nor did he know how to even use Pandora's Box, making him feel small and useless.

"How do I work it?" He asked fervently as they ran for the primordial creatures.

Thalia sighed, taking the box. "Matt, what is kept in this?"

"Hope," he replied immediately.

"Exactly. And hope is far more ancient that either Amehait or Nidhogg. Hope was there when Kronus took power from Uranus, and when Zeus dethroned the Titan Lord, and other times, too. Gaea, Mother Earth, hoped endlessly over and over again for her children to dethrone each other. A little creepy and morbid if you ask me, but then again we cannot fathom what she went through," Thalia said, pausing. "Look, hope is the most ancient thing _besides_ Chaos. Even the primordial goddess herself hoped to create a universe, which she did." She handed the box back to Matt calmly and gently, despite the death and battling going on around them. "What this box contains can save us."

"But _how_?" He asked, distressed.

Thalia opened her mouth to speak, but it was Isabella who answered his question. "Matt, hope isn't just the thing that keeps us all going; it's the unique force that _wills_ everything to happen. Without hope, change can never occur, but with it we can shape our futures and even change the fate of the world. You have the raw manifestation of hope in that box right there and it's up to you to decide our destinies."

"Lucky me," he muttered under his breath as he stared down at Pandora's Box. He wondered how something so small could be so important to all of them. He shook his head as they ran forward, unsure of what to do. He knew he must open the box, but how could he use it so that it wouldn't just disappear like it almost did with Pandora herself?

Matt smiled to himself as he got an idea. A dangerous and precarious plan that he was staking everything they had on, but he had no other choice. He turned to Thalia – who could outrun just about anyone – and told her to find Annabeth, quickly. She looked puzzled, but did as he told her and rushed off.

"Why do you want Annabeth?" Isabella asked, coming up beside him.

He stared at her, his pale blue eyes searched hers and unfortunately they found what he was looking for. He knew she loved him . . . and unfortunately he loved her back. A dark cloud of foreboding hovered over him as he realized – despite how much he wanted to be with her – they could never be together. He exhaled in defeat, knowing that few could beat the primal forces of love, but knowing that those that did paid heavily for their choice.

"Matt," she repeated, edge in her voice, "why do you want Annabeth?" He didn't answer but gave her a grim look, his face plastered with fear and regret. "Matt, what have you done?"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Isabella . . ."

"Matt . . ."

Just then Thalia and Annabeth ran up in front of them, shooting distressed glances behind them as Nidhogg and Amehait neared. Matt approached Annabeth, taking both of her hands in his. They stood there for a moment, silent, when she spoke.

"Do it," she told him.

"Annabeth," he said quickly, "there is a price . . ."

"Is there any other way to stop them?" She interrupted sternly, waiting for someone to answer her.

"No," he replied quietly.

"Then I must do it, for the sake of us all."

They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like eternity. Thalia and Isabella shared a worried glance, knowing that something deep and perpetual was being exchanged between the two that they could never understand.

Matt nodded, looking away. Then he bent over and kissed Annabeth's shaking hand. "Forgive me," he whispered so that only she could hear him. He released her palm and backed up, holding Pandora's Box. "There is a price that must be paid . . ." He began.

"I shall pay it," she answered without hesitation, knowing the fate that awaited her.

Matt nodded again and looked down at the jar, allowing all his energy to flow into it. His hands began to glow a bright cerulean which slowly faded. Isabella could have sworn though that it looked as if the blue light went _into_ the jar. Matt's hands were suddenly replaced with a vibrant gold and silver luminescence that forced the others to look away. He laid the box down and moved close to Annabeth, laying his hands on the side of her face. He saw tears trickle down her cheeks, but her expression was still strong, unwilling to fall or show defeat. The light in his hands slowly melted away, passing from him to Annabeth, her eyes becoming flat, reflective coins of silver and gold as power rolled off her in waves of energy.

Matt fell back, exhausted. Isabella and Thalia quickly caught him, holding him up. They watched as a gold and silver luminosity covered Annabeth, making her resemble an immortal. She had a blank look on her face, like she was hypnotized. Without even regarding them, she turned around and walked slowly toward the two primordial monsters.

"What happened to her?" Thalia asked, eyes wide.

"I took hope from Pandora's Box and tied it with Annabeth's soul," Matt explained, rising to his feet. "It was a risk – I wasn't even sure it would work – but now she is extremely powerful. I'm not even sure if the gods could stand against her. She has an ancient, primal type of power that no other has. Unfortunately, her body cannot host such an entity for long . . ."

Isabella bent down and picked up the box, turning it over. "Now that this doesn't contain anything, why doesn't it turn to dust and disappear?"

Matt looked down, hiding his expression. "The box must always hold something remarkable within it. I had to put something into it and it is a choice I do not regret."

"What did you place into it?" Thalia inquired quietly, even though she knew what it was. He turned and stared up at her, the look in his eyes enough to answer her questions. She nodded, and then asked, "What about Annabeth?"

"Like I said, her body cannot hold the primordial being of hope . . ."

"Matt, what will happen to her?" She asked again, her voice becoming angry. All three of them glanced at Annabeth as she stood alone in front of Nidhogg and Amehait, light flowing off her. Wherever the light touched, buildings were repaired, wounds were healed, and life restored. The daughter of Athena had become a goddess in her own right, and she clearly was more powerful then the two monsters . . . and they knew it.

Then, suddenly, the world was plunged into darkness, the sun now gone from the horizon and even the moon had gone black. No lights shined through the almost infinite buildings around them, only shadows. For a moment, there was quiet, absolute stillness before every single half-blood, creature, god, and monster dissolved into mayhem as they realized that no matter what level of power they attained or magical understanding, the darkness still clung around them, impenetrable.

The rift – only feet away from Matt, Thalia, and Isabella – shifted one last time, and splintered into a million dark fragments before dissolving into nothing as Chaos herself, the evil, ancient, primordial goddess, walked through the portal as the entire militia of legendary beings descended into anarchy.


	19. The Battle for New York: Part 3

Chaos.

Her skin was black as night with small, flickering lights that resembled stars scattered across it. She had long, raven hair that flowed in an unfelt breeze, her locks twisting and fading like smoke or mist. Her eyes were solid black and once in a while they would flicker, and if one were unlucky enough to gaze into them at that moment, their mind would break and they would dissolve into madness. This was the primordial goddess in her personified form.

And she was horrifying.

Many of the soldiers lost faith at the sight of her and fled along with myriad creatures and beasts. The gods trembled, yet stood tall but the fear was poorly hidden from their expressions. Even Nidhogg and Amehait halted in their warpath and just growled, low and vicious.

The closest being to Chaos herself was Annabeth, her skin glowing pure white with her hair (which seemed to turn from blonde to gold) moved as if underwater. An aura of light radiated at least ten feet out from her made of pure silver, white, and gold energy that was the only thing – besides Chaos – that could be seen in the perpetual darkness. For a moment they all feared that the goddess had brought her once lover, Tartarus, but were quickly assured otherwise for the moment you came face to face with the dark abysmal monster, you would be able to feel it's cold, almost reptilian power radiating through you, forcing you into insanity.

There was a quick flash, and then there was suddenly light pouring out from each and every being that stood in Times Square. Matt realized it was Annabeth's power – or was it Hope's power? – that had done such a tremendous feat. She had broken an incantation cast by Chaos herself. For a brief moment, he felt a spark of optimism rise within him, but it was quickly doused as the primordial goddess stepped forward.

Within at least thirty feet of her, everything began to rot, rust, decay, and turn to ash. Buildings slowly crumpled away, the concrete road turned an orangish-red along with many metal items around her before turning to dust. It even seemed that the air was stolen away from where she walked. The armor and weapons of the militia dwindling, becoming little more than grains of sand falling to their feet.

Chaos was all-powerful; _too_ powerful.

She continued to walk forward – slowly – towards them. She held forth her jet black hand, revealing long, clawed fingers. Then, many of the warriors and soldiers fighting _against _her began to buckle over, gasping for air, choking. The few that were unaffected were stunned immobile by the sudden plague that afflicted their comrades.

Isabella noted – while she ran from person to person, using her magic to unclog their windpipes – that Chaos' power was immense and the effect her magic had was incredible, but fixing whatever she caused was unbelievably simple. It was as if she – the goddess who was the most ancient thing in the universe, who eve created the universe – was unable to keep a firm grasp over the incantations she set.

Nidhogg and Amehait began to move again, surging forward slowly. Annabeth stood in there way, creating a translucent wall to keep them from going any further. A golden and silver light began to pour from the monsters' eyes as Annabeth used her power to attack them on the inside, forcing energy through them.

The recovering half-bloods watched in horror as Delphyne – Percy still sitting precariously on her, riding her like some kind of rodeo animal – charged Chaos. The goddess took no note of the beast as she neared her rapidly, her maw open, revealing infinite rows of sharp, jagged teeth. At the last moment, Chaos turned her head the slightest bit towards them and a black thunderbolt burst forth from the sky, shattering through Delphyne. The she-beast growled weakly, swaying back and forth, before collapsing onto the road, cracking and destroying the concrete. Then, her massive form burst into a column of flame which stretched far into the sky.

Chaos turned her attention to Percy, who now lay hunched on the ground, hurt badly. A black aura surrounded her as she lashed out with incredible force at him. The air was suddenly filled with the scent of saltwater before quickly devoured by the aroma of something unnamed; something dark, ancient, and evil.

"Percy!" Thalia screamed, tears streaming down her face as Matt held her back from running towards Chaos, into what would surely be suicide.

But it was too late: the pale, lifeless body of the son of Poseidon lay sprawled on the shattered street as the flames created from Delphyne set fire to anything that would burn.

New York City had turned into an inferno.

* * *

Far, far away a distant whisper murmured in anxiety.

The being that had waited for far too long was nothing more than a distant echo of what it had once been. But soon it would become far more than it ever was. Soon it would be awakened and brought into the World of Man where it would destroy and wreak havoc. Nothing could stand in its way, and all would bow down or be taken, tortured, and after they had begged endlessly for death would it deliver such a reward. Soon the universe would belong to it; soon it would be restored to its once great power . . .

_Soon_ . . ._ soon_ . . . _soon_ . . .

* * *

The remaining militia formed together into a phalanx, standing still. They knew that they could not withstand Chaos or her power, yet they would not back down or surrender. They had too much pride . . . and their pride just might cost them their lives.

The flames burned furiously all around them, smoke poisoning the air and making it almost impossible to breathe. The fire had not been quenched because the desperate need for every single being that would stand against the primordial goddess to join together was becoming more and more apparent. She still stood not far from where the rift had once been, energy rolling of her in continuous waves.

Thalia stood beside Matt, her face red, her hands clenched. She tasted the iron tang of her blood in her mouth as she bit down hard on her tongue. Her fingernails dug deep into her palms, her knuckles aching from the stress of being tense for so long. She shot a sidelong glance at Annabeth and then at the smoke-filled sky. She found no comfort in the fact that there was nobody to pray too, nobody to turn to for help. They were all alone against something that knew their ever dying secret.

She let the anger and fury boil through her, rising up from somewhere deep within her soul. She needed to fuel herself with rage to strengthen her power. She could never dream of destroying Chaos, but she just needed to buy Annabeth some time. If she could turn back Nidhogg and Amehait, she could stand against Chaos and, with the gods and remaining militia, they would have a high chance of winning the war.

Matt laid his hand on her shoulder, nodding his head, understanding her plan. They turned and were about to approach the goddess when Isabella joined them, magical energy crackling in her hands. Matt did the same while Thalia whipped forth her spear, electricity running around it and through her hair. The sky shook with thunder as the three most powerful half-bloods the world has ever known prepared themselves.  
The rest of the army still crowded into small squads that were more or less safer. The gods were still attacking the primordial monsters while some of the most powerful of the immortals were battling Chaos with little avail. The fires still burned the buildings and structures all around them, turning New York into a scene from the fiery pits of hell. The sky was obscured by the flames while the ground was painted in blood. It was as if Apocalypse was knocking at their door.

Matt, Thalia, and Isabella – fueled by their raw anger and fury – tore through the skirmishes and scuttles that still raged through Times Square between the Arcana and the remaining demigods of Chaos' army. As the three half-bloods ran, nearing ever closer to the ancient goddess, they could feel her effect on nature. They wanted to just stop, curl into a ball and die; to scream and scream until their throats shattered; to just let the fiery rage consume them and destroy everything in their path. But they fought the unquenchable desires deep within them and kept running, knowing that if they failed, the world would be destroyed.

Well, destroyed _more_ than it already had.

Slowly, gradually, it occurred to Matt all the things that had happened to them had been horribly effective on the mortal world. Had Chaos planned all of it? Had she secretly been behind everything they did, even bringing them to New York? Had she _wanted_ a militia to be set against her and Pandora's Box opened, allowing Hope to enter a being? It seemed she did, which meant she had some master plan and all the pieces were now quickly coming together. With horror he realized that he, Thalia, and Isabella were a major part in that plan and they were about to play right into Chaos' hands . . .  
The primordial goddess turned her head towards them slowly, smiling; and even Thalia, who had seen horrors, recoiled from her expression. Matt opened his mouth to speak, to stop them, but it was too late. The two girls sprinted the last bit of space and, with energy coiling off them, attacked Chaos with every single last bit of power they had left, and Isabella silently promised herself that she would personally watch the goddess die.

A short distance away, Annabeth stood – with the power of Hope pouring through her veins and slowly bonding to her soul – in front of Nidhogg and Amehait. The two beasts had slowed under her power and now weren't even moving forward anymore. They still roared and growled, baring their teeth, but otherwise remained paralyzed. She was pushing invisible waves of energy towards them, forcing them back. For being such ancient beings, they were incredibly inadequate to the modern world. They hadn't entered the World of Man for thousands of years, and the mortals had come immensely far in the last ten years, so the technological shock to the creatures was infinite. Annabeth unleashed another wave of power towards them, forcing them farther back . . .

But the real Annabeth lay dormant within. When Hope had entered her, it had taken over her conscious, placing the soul of Annabeth in a sleeping state while it took control. But would it be enough? Would the demigod body be able to endure the incredible power forced upon it? Already she could feel the very essence, the soul, of Annabeth begin to slip away; it was only a matter of time before . . .

Back at where the rift had once been, Chaos let out a sharp cackle of triumph as she held Thalia by the throat in one hand, and an unconscious Isabella by the scruff of the neck in the other. Matt stood in front of the goddess, blue auric energy twisting and warping around him, momentarily protecting him. There was a twinkle in Chaos' eye and Matt saw immediately what she was planning to do. In one last desperate attempt, he lunged away, landing on the fallen body of one of Chaos' soldiers, securing his fingers around a small, gray dagger, and then . . .

He was jerked swiftly away by his hair. He could feel the cold, ancient feeling of Chaos as she pulled him to his feet. He looked over to find Thalia, eyes wide and pleading, staring at him desperately, but he had nothing of reassurance to tell her. Isabella was now lying on the ground at her feet; once in a while she would jerk and twitch, but otherwise made no attempt to wake.

"The rule of the gods is over," Chaos hissed, her voice sharp enough to cut through diamonds – literally. "The Age of Chaos has begun."

Then, a black portal – resembling the rift, but leading to a different location – opened up before them. The goddess smiled in victory as she stared into it and held Matt and Thalia aloft, like a sacrifice.  
And even before they were thrown trough the portal, they could feel the dark, cold, reptilian feeling as it slithered forth from it. Horrified, they stared through the doorway in the air at the unbelievable darkness that sent waves of evil towards them that were infinitely more powerful than Chaos herself. The gates of Tartarus loomed before them, beckoning them into the impenetrable abyss.

The Battle for New York was over . . .

. . . and they had lost.


	20. Into the Abyss

Tartarus.  
The trinity of demigods laid sprawled on a craggy rock that jutted out far into an infinite abyss that surrounded them. The portal they had come through had closed, plunging them into almost complete darkness. A nimbus of light flowed off Chaos as she stood at the beginning of the craggy rock, blocking any way of escape. Darkness swirled below the large jutting stone, making any single misstep their last.

Death.

The feeling was everywhere. While they knew they were in the Underworld, this section of Tartarus was unlike the one that existed in the gloomy chasm. This abyss was different: dark, primordial, and absolutely malicious.

Evil.

The sense of it buzzed around them and was almost tangible, sending chills that had nothing to do with the cold that also encompassed them running down their spines. The malevolent force was flowing towards them from all directions, horror lacing through it. The three half-bloods knew that the very darkness that surrounded them _was_ Tartarus, the ancient god that stood for everything evil and murderous . . .

And Chaos was planning to awaken it from its deep sleep.

"The end has come, godlings," the goddess hissed, her voice terrifying and absolutely lethal. "And you are to bring about my rise to power."

"I will die before I assist you," Matt spat, fury raging through him. His aura briefly cracked around him, filling the chasm with a moment of cerulean light. Isabella had revived, and now leaned on Thalia for support. All three of them were still sitting on the craggy rock, too exhausted to move.

"That is exactly what you will do, Son of Odin," she said, her voice sounding almost reptilian, her tone almost joyful. "You see, half-blood, in order to awaken my lover, Tartarus, the blood of the three most powerful demigods ever to walk the earth must be spilled and given to him. Those three would be you."

Their mouths dropped open in unison. Unable to hide the shock in their faces, they stammered and attempted to form words but to no avail. It felt as if their whole world had gone numb and they were slowly spiraling into the abyss, being pulled in by some unseen force.

"You three are powerful beyond belief – the children of the three most commanding gods – and that power I shall take and channel to give new life to Tartarus, and then I will release him upon your earth and watch as it burns." Chaos cackled as images of the dying and scorching world surfaced within the minds of Thalia, Isabella, and Matt. "And," she continued, "no one – not even Hope – will be able to stop me!"

"We will stop you," Thalia growled. "We will not rest until you are dead."

The primordial goddess grinned, and the sight was terrifying. "My dear Thalia, you will be dead before you ever get the chance to stand in my way." To keep her threat, Chaos lifted her jet black hand, her palm facing towards the daughter of Zeus.

The choking came first.

Thalia clutched at her throat, feeling her windpipe slowly close up. Her brain began to throb, the sound of blood pumping clearly audible in her ears, the iron tang of the crimson liquid filling her mouth. Her nose began to burn with the smell of something dark and ancient, not that she could get a firm grasp over the odor through the gasping and choking as she attempted to breathe. The darkness around her faded and a stark, white light filled her vision; the menacing acts being thrust upon her disappearing.

Then, suddenly, she was yanked back into the world, gasping for deep gulps of air as the aftermath of Chaos incantation began to wear off. Thalia squeezed her eyes shut, un-wanting to see what had occurred.

Matt stood behind the primordial goddess, an iron dagger protruding from her abdomen, stuck through her from her back. Chaos slowly looked down at the gray tip, black mist curling from the wound.

Isabella watched as she slowly began to lose form, unable to hold together her shape whilst the dagger penetrated her core, its strange and unique energy coursing through her veins, killing her. Silver tears began to slowly drip from here same metallic shade.

Something was happening to the primordial goddess, something . . . something . . . something . . .

Matt quickly pulled the dagger from her back, the blade tipped with what looked like black blood. Chaos shifted and shuddered one last time, before exploding into a cloud of ash, swirling around them before spiraling down towards the depths of Tartarus, a sharp wind beginning to whip around them.

"How did you know . . .?" Isabella said, slowly, bringing Thalia to her feet.

Matt looked at the dagger once more before throwing it into the dark chasm. "Back in New York, we all saw the effect her magic had on us, but it was easily broken. Her incantations were weak and feeble, and there was no reason for such to happen to the most ancient thing in the universe. I remembered that in many mythologies, the gods had to flee the World of Man because of the invention of iron and how even being near it could kill them. I realized how much iron was in New York, making her spells hard to keep durable, and so . . . well, I actually went out on a limb. If that wouldn't have worked, I don't . . ." His voice trailed off as he realized that Isabella and Thalia were no longer looking at him, but over his shoulder, beyond him. Matt slowly turned around, drawing in a sharp gasp of shock at the sight of . . .

Annabeth.

She stood at the back of the huge, opening-less cave, a portal of blinding white light behind her. Her hair twisted and shifted as if underwater, the golden strands shining. Her eyes had changed to different colors – one silver, one gold – and her clothes had changed to an ancient Greek dress, white and beautiful.

Energy and power no longer radiated from the daughter of Athena, although they could all feel the change within her. Hope had become less dominant, but still resting within her, lending her its powers. But Annabeth was herself again: her soul had broken free from its cage and had restored control . . . but not before turning back Nidhogg and Amehait, relinquishing them back to their dark and torturous realms of containment.

"Annabeth!" Thalia screamed gleefully, but her words were drowned out, swallowed by the raging maelstrom that now suddenly swirled around them.

Matt realized darkly that the typhoon that now released its fury around them was the essence of Chaos. He suddenly remembered a legend – one long lost and easily overlooked legend – of the primordial goddess being caged by the gods in the flesh and bones of a body, unable to release her pure, raw energy that had created the unending world and its neighboring realms.

And he had loosed her.

She had planned it all: the conclave, Delphyne, Mnemosyne and the Muses, the Battle for New York, even the gift of Pandora's Box. Chaos had known – and planned – everything they had done, making sure it had all gone according to plan. He doubted if any of her tools used to help himself, Thalia, Isabella, Annabeth, and even Percy to where they were knew that they had been chess-pieces, maneuvered expertly by the hand of Chaos. She had even schemed to have them at that moment so she could release Tartarus and even herself from her bonds, the iron nullifying the gods' incantation that had been cast to cage her. And he realized – too late – what she was about to do.

"Annabeth!" He screamed over the storming gale that burst around them, threatening to shake them from their precarious perch on the dark, jutting stone they crouched on. "Run! Get out of here now!" She looked at him puzzled, energy endowed to her by the pure essence of Hope pooling in her hands, glowing, but she did not move, not understanding the danger she was suddenly in. Without the primal being of Hope within her, controlling her like it had done at the Battle for New York, she was open to almost any source of raw energy. She was like a drug to the immortals, a drug they used to get there fix, to gain power and prominent dominance in the World of Man. And, in Chaos' case, to gain a personified form with which she could aim her dark energy out across the earth, reclaiming it as her own . . .

The storm around them spun faster, flashes of lightning now cracking within it, low thundering echoing through the abyss that was Tartarus. It could've been her imagination, but Isabella could've sworn that the darkness below had grown closer and was laughing madly – and triumphantly – at them. Tartarus was so near to being awakened from his punishment that even the thought of it terrified her more than the winds that swirled around them. Strange faces and expressions would appear in the gale, twisting and shifting into gruesome and exotic looks of horror and triumph combined that they immediately recognized as the masks of the primordial goddess.

Annabeth realized far too late what Chaos was planning, and she wasn't prepared enough to fight the goddess, making herself a defenseless rowboat in the heart of a storm, a tsunami looming before her, about to crush her, about to consume her . . .

And then, the typhoon of wind turned into black clouds streaked with glowing specks that became spears of light as they were thrown around at light-speed. Chaos – in her energy form – swirled around Annabeth, creating a dark cocoon of sable mist and smoke around her, taking the air away from her lungs, weakening her. The energy spun faster and faster around her, becoming a part of her . . .

Matt, Thalia, and Isabella watched in horror as their dear friend was warped by Chaos, and they were powerless to stop the transaction. Isabella and Matt and combined their magical powers – fueled by Thalia's energy – and had attempted to reach Annabeth, but with little avail. They could do nothing but watch in terror and foreboding, knowing that when the black smoke faded, the Annabeth they would see would not be Annabeth they knew.

Then the clouds cleared, revealing the figure of the daughter of Athena . . . just before the black smoke twisted and forced itself down her throat through her mouth, entering her soul. Chaos had possessed Annabeth Chase, and now the only thing that could've stopped her – Hope – she was in possession of, including the body of the only person who could hold the primal power.

Chaos was now – ultimately and infinitely – invincible.


	21. White Rift

Chaos was now – ultimately and infinitely – invincible.

She stood before the three demigods, possessing Annabeth's body, the only sign of the shift being the solid black eyes that stared back at them coldly. They seemed as dark and bottomless as the void of Tartarus that lay before them, murmuring in anxiety, waiting . . . wishing . . . hoping . . . _living_ . . .  
Time had no meaning in the moments that followed, the four beings staring back at each other. The half-bloods were horrified, terror coursing through their veins as real as the blood that did the same. Chaos watched them with hungry eyes as her black tongue licked sharp teeth. With the small gesture, they understood one thing and one thing only: the Annabeth that stood before them was no longer the Annabeth they knew and loved; this was Chaos, and, no matter what, they had to kill her.

"The time has come, godlings," she rasped, her voice smooth and silky as ever, sending chills crawling down their spines. "It is time to die . . ." She raised her pale hand, aiming it at the three teenagers who now stood with a courageous defiance, readying themselves for the death they were sure would come.

But it never did.

When Isabella looked up at the goddess, she saw that her eyes had twinkled a sudden gold and silver, before reverting to their solid raven color. She saw that Chaos no longer wore an expression of pure triumph and evil, but of shock and surprise.

"Nidhogg and Amehait . . ." She murmured, ". . . dead." Her head shot up towards the three, staring at them as if she had just noticed them. "This girl – this _human_ – destroyed much of them, imprisoning what was left of them back into their fateful penitentiaries."

Matt felt a twinge of hope in his stomach at the revelation. So Annabeth – with the power of Hope within her – had defeated the primordial beasts, saving New York City . . . for now. He had no idea – well, he had some ideas, but none of them pleasant – of what the goddess was planning to do, but he doubted that she would let any witnesses live. Then a bright light shocked him back to his senses as he shielded his eyes from the burst of shining energy.

Chaos whirled around to see the arcane door carved into the stone that, when activated by a tremendous amount of power, glowed white and led to any designated space. She shot one last glance at the demigods, and then spoke to the abyss beneath her. "Your time will have to be postponed, my love; I need your full power to destroy this world they call earth." Then, she turned and disappeared in a shattering explosion of light as she stepped through the door, leaving them alone in the impenetrable darkness.

They stood in silence for a few moments, the only sound the rapid beating of their hearts and the blood pumping in their own ears. And then, simultaneously, they collapsed on the craggy rock floor, exhausted. They huddled close together, knowing that if they strayed near the edge, they could easily slip into the darkness below, falling forever, for infinity. Falling . . . falling . . . falling . . .

Thalia suddenly stood up, brushing the dust and dirt off her scraped and tattered blue jeans. "OK, Isabella, ready?"

The daughter of Isis rose to her feet, wiping smudges of grime from her face with the back of her hand and sniffling slightly. "Yeah, I'm ready." She shrugged off her backpack, unzipped it and began to rummage through it, searching for something.

Matt was extremely perplexed. "Whoa, what . . . but . . . huh?!"

Thalia just rolled her eyes. "Seriously Matt, we came prepared. You have such little faith . . ."

"Prepared for what!?"

She shook her head at his ignorance but before she could answer his rambling questions, Isabella popped up, a shining piece of quartz crystal in her hand, its shape rough and jagged, like it just came out of the earth and hadn't been smoothed and cut. "Got it!" She said; her voice exuberant and almost childish in her excitement.

Thalia took the piece of white crystal and held it up to Matt's face. "Do you know what this is?"

"Uh . . . a shiny rock?" He suggested.

She rolled her eyes again. "It's a piece of quartz, and do you know how it's going to save us?" He shook his head. She sighed, getting angry with his little knowledge of what they were planning to do. "Quartz has been honored throughout millennia as something special and unique. To the ancient humani, it was a shard of the sky; it was a falling star; it was the eye of a god; etcetera, etcetera. The ancient people viewed it in myriad ways, but of what they didn't know of was its power." Matt looked at her blankly, so Thalia continued, "The energy within this crystal is almost infinite: it can heighten the intensity of basically any type of raw energy and channel it into Alpha level. And that is what we are going to do."

"But how the Niflheim does that help us?" Matt cursed, rising to his feet, beginning to grow aggravated.

Thalia opened her mouth to respond, but Isabella cut in, answering his question. "Do you know what a sonic-boom is?"

He blinked in surprise, but nodded. "Yeah, it's when planes and stuff break the sound barrier and go faster than the speed of sound, and it makes a giant "boom", right?"

She nodded. "Well, the "boom" that is created, is really the fabric of space being torn." She saw his vacant look and continued, "And when this thick layer is ripped, it creates a rift . . . in mid-air . . ."

Matt's eyes suddenly grew wide at the prospect. "Like a rift created to travel extremely far distances," then he stopped, his brow furrowing. "But wait, how did you guys know to be prepared like this?"

It was Thalia who answered his question. "Matt, we did research on Chaos the same as you, but unlike you, we did research on her strategies while you studied her powers. They are equally important, but in this scenario we just so happen to be better than you right now." She smiled broadly, showing her white teeth, then continued. "We knew she was manipulative and cunning, and it was a long-shot, but we guessed she would release Tartarus, her ex-lover. We hoped we were right, and we are, so now we can put plan "Family Reunion" into action."

"What's plan "Family Reunion"?" Matt asked. Thalia smiled, but said nothing as Isabella finished carving several intricate symbols into the chunk of quartz.

"All done!" She said, handing the crystal to Thalia. She grabbed Matt by the elbow and quickly pulled him back done the craggy rock, back towards the side of the cavern and away from the daughter of Zeus.

"What is she going to do?" He asked, confused.

Isabella nodded towards her with her chin. "Just watch."

Thalia clutched the quartz in both hands, focusing all her energy into it. Her hair stood on end and began to stick up from the static electricity she was emitting. She knew that since Tartarus had no opening to the sky, her power would have to come from within and there was no source to depend on; no one to call out to for help. Long tendrils of lightning began to whip out from around her, shocking and destroying craggy rock all around the cavern. She feared that she might bring down the entire out-post of rock if she released too much energy, but she put the idea aside, knowing that what she was about to do was the only way.

She channeled her power into the quartz crystal which began to shine a stark white, a deep contrast against the endless darkness that encompassed them for eternity. The piece of rock began to shake, sending off waves of energy that pushed Matt and Isabella flat against the cave's wall. Then, when the quartz had absorbed practically all of Thalia's energy . . .

She slung it like a fastball into the darkness.

Matt yelled, but was blocked out by a tremendous booming sound that sent all three of them careening across the craggy rock. Dust swirled around them, making it almost impossible to see. For a moment Matt thought it had failed and they were doomed, but then he saw a large, white slash in the air that was pulsing in an unsteady fashion.

"It worked," he said in awe, helping Isabella and Thalia to their feet. "I can't believe it worked! You actually created the portal!" He looked at each of their faces in turn, smiling broadly. The returned the expression of joy as they danced and jumped in happiness.

"We better hurry," Isabella said, claming down. "We don't know how long the rift will stay open nor do we know when Chaos will come back."

"Where did she go anyway?" Thalia said, brandishing her spear.

Isabella swallowed in fear. "She went back to New York City to finish what Nidhogg and Amehait started . . ." She paused, seeing the color drain from their faces. "Chaos has gone to the great city to utterly destroy it and the small army that stands against her."

They grew quiet for a while, and then Matt cleared his throat, slinging forth a whip of pure, blue energy and standing in front of the portal. "Well, I guess it's time to go," he said, smiling to encourage the others. They stood by his side, eyeing the white slash in the air. "Where does this lead, anyway?" He asked.

Thalia smiled. "To the original Mt. Olympus in Greece. It's time for Chaos to have a family reunion . . . and it's up to us to give it her."

They nodded and, together, they stepped through the rift, and into . . .


	22. Summoning the Ancients

. . . emptiness.

As they fell through the cracked portal and onto Mt. Olympus, the rift immediately closed up with a sharp _pop_! They were alone on possibly the most ancient and powerful spot in the entire known world . . . save for Atlantis, but that was gone . . . long gone . . .

Thalia stood up first, dusting off her jeans. She looked around, expecting too see a magnificent palace, but instead, there was just mist. Thick fog swirled around them, making it almost impossible to see. White, marble pillars and stone was scattered all around them, giving a dark message of foreboding that was clear: this was where the Olympians had once lived, but something dark, ancient, and terrible forced them from the mountain. . .

"_This_ is Mt. Olympus?" Matt said, standing up beside Thalia. "I expected something . . ."

"This place looks like crap!" Isabella yelled in annoyance, hands on her hips as she took a 360 degree look at the mountain.

Matt drew his mouth into a fine line, suppressing a smile for the sake of Thalia, who looked unusually pale. "I was going to say _divine_ or possibly _royal_, but I guess "crap" works, too." He turned around to face Thalia. "What happened here?"

She shook her head, all the color drained from her face, her expression a mask of pure horror. "I don't know . . ." She slowly walked away from them, taking in the fallen remains of the once great home of the Olympians.

"Do you know any myths that might relate?" Isabella said, joining Matt.

He tilted his head to the side, pondering. "Well, there were several times when Greek monsters attacked Olympus, but that wouldn't have caused _this_," he waved his hand, motioning towards the debris and chunks of marble. "And in no other myth does it reference anything like this happening . . ."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Isabella whispered solemnly.

"That the gods – all of them – aren't telling us the whole truth?"

"I don't even think the parts that they _are_ telling us is the truth . . . or at least just useless fragments," She added.

Matt nodded, then turned to see Thalia, who was gently touching a piece that resembled a throne. "Thalia?" He called cautiously. "Are you OK?"

She looked up at them, and there were tears in her eyes. "My father . . . he did this . . ."

Isabella ran quickly to her side, holding her. "No, Thales', Zeus didn't do this . . ."

She shook her head. "My father led the Olympians. He once told me that a leader must take all responsibility for his peoples' actions. He caused this, or at least let it happen."

"C'mon Thalia," Matt said, "You don't actually believe that, do you?"

She lifted her eyes to look at him. "Matt, if the Norse gods – the Asgardians – were destroyed in battle, and you father led them into war, would it not be his fault?"

He bit his lip, unable to answer her question because he knew she was right. But, he wondered, would Zeus _really _allow his own palace to be destroyed?

Thalia slowly picked herself up, shaking her head. "Alright, we need to get down to business," she said, sniffling and wiping her nose.

"No, Thalia, you aren't . . ." Matt began.

She snapped her head towards him. "I'm fine, Matt."

"But . . ."

"I _said_, I'm fine." This time there was an unnatural fire in her eyes and static electricity flowed through her hair, shocking Isabella. She shook her hair, releasing the tendrils of energy, and cleared her throat. "OK, so, we're here to bring back the Creators, two of the three beings who put together the universe and formed it from their own raw energy. And, the three beings that spread off and whose blood flows through the three different sets of gods this very day."

"Who are these beings?" Isabella asked, furrowing her brow.

"Well, the Greek one is Chaos, and the Norse one is a Frost Giant," she replied, looking at Matt, who nodded.

"Yes, Ymir."

"And," Thalia continued, "The Egyptian creator is . . ."

"Atum," Isabella said quickly, "The Complete; the One who is All; the White God. But didn't he come _from _Chaos?"

Thalia shrugged. "Some myths, yes, but in the _real _"mythology", Atum, Ymir, and Chaos are siblings, and together created the earth. We have to call them here: only they can stop Chaos."

"Will they help us?" Matt asked. "I bet Atum would, but what about Ymir? He seems more like a weapon than an ally." He saw the deadly smile on Thalia's face, and he suddenly realized what she was hinting at. "Thalia! We are not going to release Ymir on Chaos! He will destroy the entire state of New York, if not all of North America! You have got to be insane!"

"Matt, we have no choice," she said firmly, and he relented. "Now, shut up and listen closely, I'm only going to tell you how to summon them once . . ."

* * *

Isabella shuddered as the last drops of blood dripped from hers and Matt's gashes in their hands and fell into a makeshift bowl Thalia had found. For the spell to work, they had to say several "magic words" as the blood fell and perform other incantations and ceremonies that Isabella would rather be tortured for eternity than relive. Thalia stirred a mixture of dust and ash into the thick goblet of blood, completing the enchantment. She threw away the piece of rock she used to stir the mixture and smiled down at the final product, which looked like normal blood to Isabella and Matt, but that Thalia assured them was something more, much more . . .

"I still don't see why we have to use blood . . ." Isabella muttered while Matt mended her wounds, and she tried her best to do the same to his.

Thalia rolled her eyes. "Blood is ancient. It has always existed, and has always symbolized life . . . and death. Blood is the meeting point between every opposite in the universe. Blood is everything." She finished her speech (which they suspected she had planned) and shooed them away from her. She dipped her fingers into the chemicalized blood and began to draw a circle on the dry, dead earth. When she was finished, she placed a star inside the circle, creating a pentagram, and then continued to make several intricate and arcane symbols from the blood. When she was complete, she poured the rest of the crimson liquid into the center of the star, which splattered and hissed as it hit the ground. She washed her hands quickly with a bottle of water, and then stood beside Matt and Isabella.

"Where the Niflheim did you learn that incantation!?" Matt screeched at her. "Let one those symbols!"

Thalia just rolled her eyes and shook her head. "If you must know, I learned them from the Titanesses Hekate and Mnemosyne. The Goddess with Three Faces is the patron deity of witches, magic, ghosts, and the original goddess of the Underworld, pre-Persephone. And Mnemosyne knows everything. So I got what I could from each of them, and pieced it together . . . I hope it works . . ."

"But when and where did you learn it?"

Thalia shrugged absently. "I talked alone with Mnemosyne briefly when we were in Nashville, and I have spoken to Hekate several times and I saved her once . . . she owed me a favor. So I, well, I called her."

"On a cell phone?" Matt asked suspiciously.

"What can I say?" She said, smiling. "Some of the gods are up-to-date. But anyway, this spell should work or . . ."

"Or . . .?" Isabella asked, biting her lower lip.

"Or we're all damned to Hades," she said, completely serious. "Alright, now, just a few Sigils cast there, and several Wards placed over here, and then we can summon the Creators."

"And Wards and Sigils are . . .?" Matt asked, edge in his voice.

"Magical barriers," Thalia said dismissively, and then noticed their shocked and confused glances. "What!? I can't know a little magic too? You guys are the only ones?"

Isabella and Matt just smiled and rolled their eyes. "So how do we summon these primordial deities? We have to sacrifice twenty-thousand souls in their honor?" Isabella muttered glumly, a dark foreboding settling over her about what she would have to do to summon them.

Thalia furrowed her brow, staring at them both like they were insane or had some sort of alien spore growing out of the top of their heads. "Of course not, all we have to do is call their names."

Isabella shook her head. "Of course! Call their names! Because what else is there?" Her voice was heavy with sarcasm. Which helped lighten the mood right before they called the Creators – Ymir and Atum – to Mt. Olympus.

They all took up a position on the side facing North (which Thalia informed them was the "direction of summoning") and recited the names of the ancient beings. A stark white light began to pour forth from the blood painted into intricate patterns, and then . . .

The home of the Olympians exploded in a rain of fire and rubble, sending an eruption of power showering down upon Greece.

And among the falling debris were three very terrified half-bloods . . .


	23. We have not Walked this World

The last thing Isabella Vincent, daughter of the goddess Isis, remembered was a giant burst of light, and the dark silhouette of a primeval being standing among the mist on Mt. Olympus.

And now?

And now she was careening down the face of the mountain at hundreds of miles per hour' screaming as she descended – unwillingly – down through the thick atmosphere surrounding the ancient mountain. She was falling sharply through the air, and she doubted if any of the gods could save her or her friends now. It was up the Death . . .

And Death was always cruel.

* * *

Far away, in a realm that was partially connected to the earth and partially in another realm – the Otherworld, as it was called – something ancient stirred. The mythological plane where that primal being rested was known as Nifliheim, the World of Darkness, and it was irrevocably dark and unbearably cold.

But not for that which slumbered there.

Until now.

Now something stirred deep within the ice-locked wasteland of the arcane world, and a spark of life kindled within the soul of Ymir, the Frost Giant. He had created the world, and had been destroyed by those he had brought life to.

But now he stirred.

Now he was awake.

Now he would live . . .

* * *

The next thing she knew, Isabella was resting lightly on the cold ground at a ledge of Mt. Olympus. What had just happened? Hadn't only moments ago she was spiraling towards her utter doom along with Thalia and Matt who now stood equally confused beside her? What was going on? Had the Egyptian robed figure who now stood before them, emanating power, saved them? And who exactly was this being who now radiated authority, releasing pulses of primordial energy . . .

Atum, the White God.

"I have been asleep for far too long . . ." Atum murmured, his voice perfect and beautiful. "I have heard the Calling, and I answer the ancient incantation. Now tell me, children of the children of the gods, who cast this spell?"

"We did," Thalia said, her brow furrowed. "But what do you mean "children of the children of the gods"? We are the children of the Olympians, the Asgardians, and the Rulers of Heliopolis."

"Aaah," he said quietly, "so the New Gods still rule this world . . ."

"I'm so confused," Isabella said.

Matt shook his head, also perplexed. "What do you mean, New Gods? There are Old Gods?"

The White God blinked slowly, surprised. And then, in his beautiful and quiet voice he said, "The deities for which you speak of are not the first gods to rule this world. They are not fully gods, and are the children of the _true _gods, the Old Gods. Zeus, Odin, and Isis led a rebellion against the real gods – their parents – upon their home, the De Dannan Isle."

"Atlantis," Matt murmured, stunned.

Atum nodded, the slightest movement sending streaks of gold flowing down his white robes. "The Old Gods attempted to stop them, for they had the Sight, and knew that the world would unfold into chaos for all of eternity if they won the battle, but they failed. I believe they saved the Ancient One, the Horned God, Cernunnos, for last. But they tortured him like the others, and then killed him." Atum took a deep breath. "Cernunnos was my brother . . . He was the oldest of me and my siblings, and he was the one who set into order the Omniverse, and it pains me to acknowledge his death . . . He has been dead for a long time, and I am surprised to see that he has not heard the Calling, and my other brother, Ymir, has not either."

"Are there more of these "Old Gods"?" Thalia asked.

"Aye, there are."

"Where did they come from?" she asked, her voice more stern this time.

The White God sighed. "My children were the Egyptian Gods, while my siblings – Chaos and Ymir – were the monarchs and parents of the Greek and Norse Gods, as you humani would call them. But our brother, Cernunnos, he was ancient and old even before I was born. He was more powerful than all three of us combined, and his children were the Old Gods, and they ruled the De Dannan Isle. Until that one fateful night when it fell . . ."

"Why have they been forgotten?" Thalia asked, puzzled.

Atum shook his head. "Their names still are whispered, although it is not wise to say them. But you humani remember some of them, so they are not lost . . . not yet. I know Lugh, the Dagda, and Danu are only but a few of them, and even the Crow Triad, the Morrigan, the Macha, and the Badb belong to the Old Gods. But they no longer walk this world, they are sleeping . . ."

"Can they be awoken?" Matt asked.

The White God was about to respond, when the air was suddenly sucked away from them, replaced by a flat, dry cold that made their blood turn to ice. Frost crystals coated their hair and eyelashes, and the dirt and few patches of grass below their feet crunched and cracked, and they shattered, being frozen solid. Something was coming . . .

"We have not walked this world," Atum said suddenly, staring off into the distance. "We have not set foot on this planet for good reason, and now you bring us back, but why, children of the children? Why do you call us?"

"Who is "us"?" Matt yelled over the billowing gale that now lashed out at them.

"I, the White God, have been called, and so has my brother, Ymir, the Frost Giant . . . the Shattered One . . .

"And you have doomed us all in doing so."

* * *

"But I thought Ymir was on our side!" Thalia screamed, the wind carrying off her words.

Atum shook his head, still looking off into somewhere far away. "Ymir never was an ally to this world. He helped create it, aye, that is true, but he also tried to destroy it, and succeeded in some realms. He is no ally to me, nor is he a friend to any of you. But he is a friend to Chaos, my sister, but she is no longer as powerful, the Fall Nor has made sure of that."

"The Fall Nor?" Thalia yelled back in confusion.

The White God nodded. "It is an ancient incantation. You see, half-bloods, me and my siblings were not always bound to this form," he waved his hand, motioning to his body, "we were uncontrollable and unquenchable beings that ravaged the universe. Me and my brother, Cernunnos, understood that we would destroy everything if we remained, and so I assisted him in performing the Fall Nor, which bounded us all into this . . ._ humani _form. Our powers still linger: not as powerful as they once were, but still there . . ."

Matt was surprised to learn that it was the Creators that had bound Chaos into her human body and encaged her, and even more disturbed to learn that they – three little demigods - had released her. "So you cast this spell on _yourself_?"

"Yes. And my brother cast it upon himself as well, although he was still more powerful than all of us."

"What about Ymir?"

Something dark and foreboding suddenly clouded Atums eyes and it was clear that something sinister and arcane had happened. "Ymir could not be stopped. Even in his human form – which barely held him – he was still destructive and absolutely evil. The Horned God, Cernunnos, had to do it, it was the only way . . ."

Thalia and Matt exchanged a glance. It sounded like the White God was arguing with himself, trying to convince himself that what he did was right. Thalia shuddered. There were too many secrets among the gods, and she swore to herself that when this was all over, she would learn the truth.

"What did the Horned God do?" Thalia said, stepping close to Atum so that he could hear over the raging wind. As she stood near him, she could feel the energy pouring off him. He was almighty . . . No, he was a _god._

"Ymir is known as the Shattered One for good reason," he said quietly. "Cernunnos was the only one who could stop him. He had to use his great power to utterly destroy the Frost Giant. He ripped him apart, piece by piece. But of course, his soul was still that of a god, and so I worked my magic and set Wards and Sigils – magical barriers – over the World of Darkness, Nifliheim. Cernunnos flung Ymir into the cold world, and he was trapped. But now he has he heard the Calling you cast, and the Wards _I_ cast are now ancient, eons old, and have slowly faded. And now you have released something that only the Horned God could stop . . ."

"We need him as a weapon," Isabella said suddenly, surprising them all. "We need him to win the war."

Atum looked at the puzzled, and the three demigods explained to him as quickly as possible the events that led up to the Battle for New York and ultimately the release of Chaos. From the Conclave, to the raids on their camp and their fleeing. From Mnemosyne, Titaness of Memory, to Delphyne. From the Rift to Nidhogg and Amehait, and eventually to the death of Percy and Annabeth . . . although the latter wasn't dead yet, but it was only a matter of time . . .

"I will help you," Atum said immediately. "I cannot have my sister walking this world once more. There is a reason I imprisoned her."

"What was the reason?" Thalia asked.

"She committed mortal sin . . ." he responded quietly. "It had to be done." Then, raising his head, he said, "I must contain Ymir. He could possibly be used as a weapon, but he could devastate your city, New York."

"If we don't stop Chaos, all of the world will be devastated," Matt said sternly.

"Aye, spoken like a true hero," he said, a glint in his eyes. "You three are heroes now, for the obstacles which you have overcome were impossible by godly standards. I wish I could tell you it was all over; to release you, to let you go home and rest, to be with the ones you all love. But I cannot, for those very same ones are out on that battlefield, fighting for their lives . . . and yours. I will come back to your world, but know this, half-bloods: it will come at an awful cost."

"We will pay it," Isabella said abruptly.

"Good, because if you knew what it was you would not dare to do so," he said, completely serious. "Now, let us capture the immortal soul of Ymir, shall we?"

The three demigods nodded, unsure of how they would help encage a primordial deity. Atum rubbed his hands together, white sparks dancing off them. A pure white aura surrounded the god and blinded them with searing light. The air was filled with the scent of something old . . . old and once forgotten . . .

The White God spoke several words in an inconceivable language that resembled insect buzzing, and when he raised his head, they saw that his eyes were flat, white, reflective coins that illuminated the swirling mist. The billowing gale around them ceased for a moment, and they could briefly hear spiteful words formed by the very wind, aimed at Atum, and they immediately knew who was speaking: the Shattered One, Ymir.

The White God returned the voice with words that sounded – and this was the only way they could describe it – like fire. There was light in what he said, yet the crackle of the flames existed within them, and sparks danced off his voice.

The wind blew again, this time swirling around Atum, focusing all its power on him. The Egyptian god seemed unfazed, and continued to cast an incantation in the insectlike voice. Ymir spun faster and faster around him, attempting to stop him, but to no avail, and within moments, the Frost Giant that was the blistering gale died out, returning the thick, moist atmosphere clogged with fog.

Thalia, Isabella, and Matt ran quickly to Atums side in fear. The god remained quiet, with his head bowed in exhaustion. The ancient spell he performed was powerful beyond compare, and he was surprised that he had not died in the process. He knew it had been an enormous gamble, but there was no other way. He refused to let Ymir roam the universe . . . not after what happened last time . . .

"What just happened?" Thalia asked.

The White God slowly pulled himself up. "Ymir had become a raw source of power, and the only way to stop him was . . ." He trailed off, raising his palm to his face. His aura flashed around him, with a brief blue tint in it, and then a small wind encircled Atums fingers, twirling between them.

"You absorbed Ymir!?" Matt shouted, horrified.

"Matt . . ." Isabella began, trying to calm him, but the White God placed a glowing hand on her shoulder.

"Son of Odin," he said, "It was the only way. I cannot defeat Chaos, not without destroying your entire continent, and even then I am not guaranteed victory. We are evenly matched. Me, Ymir, and Chaos are triplets, with the Horned God, Cernunnos, as our older brother. He would be able to stop her, but he is gone, and so it is up to me. With Ymir's powers, I will be able to stand against the goddess, and I will be triumphant. I saved this world many times, and I will do it again."

"Thank-you, Oh' Great Atum," Isabella said with absolute reverence.

"Oh, great-granddaughter, do not thank me yet," the White God responded. "Not until this is all over, will you thank me." They all stood in silence at his foreboding words, when the god said something that sounded like ancient Aramaic, and his aura burst into bloom around him. A white portal opened up before them, and they saw . . .

Chaos.

Death.

Carnage.

Massacre.

Discord.

Slaughter.

A bloodied New York appeared before them through the portal, and they saw the dead littering the street. Chaos stood in the center of a giant crater as bruised and bleeding gods and primordial beasts and beings attacked her with little avail. Everything they had worked for, had thrived to get, was ending. The air sparkled and twisted around Chaos, and Atums eyes grew wide at the sight.

"She is tearing the veil of reality," he whispered in horror. And then his expression transformed, becoming an ugly battle-mask. "It is time to end this."

His aura exploded into a kaleidoscope of colors, and when it faded they saw his was wielding an ugly whip tipped with black hooks and barbs. He snapped it testingly, not taking his eyes off the portal. And then, in one swift motion, he glided through the gateway, bellowing the primordial goddess's name in rage.

"_Chaos!_"


	24. Clash of the Primeval

"_Chaos!"_

The primordial goddess turned her head at the familiar voice. She sent a wave of raw energy at the Greek goddess Demeter, who was sent sprawling, and then slowly moved around, sensing something ancient and powerful . . .

Atum.

The White God.

She involuntarily bared her pointed teeth, her lips pulling back over her mouth as she snarled, the sound low and blood-chilling. If it wasn't for the Egyptian god, she would have never been imprisoned. Well, she considered, if Atum hadn't existed, then Cernunnos would've just incarcerated her sooner. The Horned God had always been an enemy to Chaos. His children – the ones who would later be known as the Tuatha de Dannan and remembered by the ancient Celts – were as powerful as the goddess, Atum, and their brother Ymir. She shuddered at the thought of the Frost Giant: although he had been her ally, she feared the primeval being for when he was released, there was no stopping him. But the Horned God had stopped him; had made him the Shattered One . . .

She blinked, returning to the present to see Atum – flanked by the three demigods she needed for the revival of Tartarus – standing in the center of the cracked and broken streets, gods and half-bloods, along with myriad creatures, stood behind them. She growled again: she had worked long and hard and she would win this battle, whatever the cost.

"Chaos," the White God murmured.

She ignored him. "Why do you walk this earth once more, Atum?" She spat his name bitterly.

"Why do _you_?" He snapped.

"I am controlled. My powers are under authority."

"By possessing a mortal girl?" Atum said quietly, furious and horrified at the same time, motioning to the body of Annabeth she resided within.

Chaos closed her eyes, turning away dismissively. "The Age of Man is over; the gods' time is overdue. They have ruled this earth when the right was not theirs. It belonged to us, Atum."

The god's lip twitched as he held back his rage. "It belonged to Cernunnos," his voice was low and almost inaudible, but he knew Chaos heard him.

"It once did, not anymore . . ."

"Because you killed him!" Atum screamed, his fury overwhelming him. He lunged at the goddess, his whip of energy morphing into a large, deadly spear. Chaos formed a black broadsword which she wielded in two hands, combating all of the Egyptian's moves. Whenever the two weapons – formed from pure energy – connected, they shot sparks and tendrils of power everywhere, turning to dust anything they touched. The two flew around Times Square, the battle looking more like an intricate dance than a fight to the death. They bounced off buildings and flew into the sky on invisible wings, connecting time and time again in a shower of raw energy.

"We have to do something," Isabella said, her magical aura snapping alight around her body. Gold and silver power glowed in her hands, prepared to be focused and used in any deadly way.

"How?" Thalia asked, brandishing her spear.

"I don't know!" the daughter of Isis responded. "We can't just stand here!"

Matt nodded, looking over his shoulder at the cowering and terrified gods. "It's up to us anyway: it doesn't look like _they_ are willing to fight anymore." The two girls nodded in agreement.

"But what do we do?" Thalia inquired again.

Matt looked from side to side, and then whirled around to face the troops loyal to the gods and the immortals themselves. "All of you! Clear out New York!" Several shouts and yells erupted, but were quickly silenced by Thalia, who threatened to run each of them through with her spear, and even the gods were afraid of her now. "Look," Matt continued, "what happened last time ancient beings came together?"

Someone shouted, "The De Dannan Isle sunk!" Immediately, their words were answered by a ravenous earthquake, which only lasted for seconds but was infinitely more terrifying.

"Exactly!" Matt called back, and then motioned towards the two fighting primeval immortals. "All the gods are joined in New York, along with two incredibly ancient beings! The fact that the entire country hasn't already sunk is a miracle! I don't care how you do it, but clear the entire state – and the neighboring area – out! If New York is destroyed, I will not let more blood be shed than already has! Get rid of every animal, person, and living thing within a thousand mile radius!" When everyone remained still and quiet, exchanging glances, he screamed, "Go!"

They took off, spreading into various directions. Isabella looked at Thalia, who nodded, and then followed the others, assisting in the removal of the humani. Matt grabbed her wrist, pulling her back.

"Matt, I have to go . . ." Isabella began, but he cut her off, handing her a small black jar that she recognized as Pandora's Box.

"Isabella," he murmured, "I told you when I released Hope that I had to put something in this box; something that could never be replaced, and so I did." He paused, taking a deep breath, then continuing, "And now I give it to you."

"What is it?" She asked, her fingers involuntarily tracing the marks in the jar.

"It is my love, my passion, everything that makes me affectionate. My love has always belonged to you, and so I am giving it to you," he said, his voice surprisingly steady. "When all this is over, I want you to open it, and . . . and . . ."

Isabella smiled, leaned in, and kissed him. The moment lasted for probably a little over ten seconds, but it felt like eternity to them both. It was so easy for them to forget the world around them and just fall into each other's arms, falling forever . . .

Isabella pulled away, stilling grinning. "I get it, we'll be together." Then her expression turned grim, as she said, "But you have to promise me something, and you have to tell me the truth." Matt nodded, waiting. She took a deep breath, then said in a quiet voice: "Promise me we will be together forever."

He smiled, expecting something worse. "Isabella, is that it . . .?"

She interrupted him, her words sounding strained. "Just answer me."

"Forever, Isabella. I will love you forever. And when all this is over – and I say when, there is no if – I will never let you go. You are my immortal, my eternity, and without you I am nothing. Our hearts are intertwined and no matter what happens, I will love you, and no force in the universe will be able to change that."

Isabella wiped her tears, his words awakening something deep within her, something she had hid after her heart had been torn out, time and time again. Matt hugged her one last time, drying her tears, and then turned back to Thalia as the daughter of Isis ran after the rest of the gods.

"That was . . . amazing," Thalia said, sniffling.

Matt let out a small laugh: he had touched _Thalia. _"I'm glad you liked it," he joked. The two were suddenly raptured from their moment as the sound of shattering glass and bending metal exploded around them. They turned swiftly around to see a giant skyscraper collapse, crushing Atum and Chaos beneath it. The demigods held their breath, but let it out in a mix of anger in relief as the two Creators came whirling out of the ruin that was the giant building.

"They're too evenly matched," Thalia observed grimly. "Even with Atum wielding Ymir's powers, Chaos is still too powerful. We _have _to do something."

Matt nodded in silent agreement, although he was completely unsure of how they could help as they watched the ancients battle. And then he saw something that made a giant lump settle in his stomach: Atum was releasing enormous amounts of energy, and it wasn't all aimed at Chaos. As a matter of fact, it seemed like he was drawing it from the earth and then hurdling it around him randomly. He pointed this out to Thalia who was equally confused. Then it hit them.

Atlantis.

Danu Talis.

The De Dannan Isle.

They suddenly weren't in New York anymore, but standing on an ancient paradise. Flora and fauna that hadn't existed on this planet for eons flourished around them, and beings that radiated infinite more power than either Chaos or Atum walked freely around them, and they immediately knew who they were: the children of Cernunnos, the Horned God. They were the Tuatha de Dannan.

Then the image shattered and was replaced by a scene of death. The earth was dry and cracked, the trees and flowers withered gray. The sky had gone dark, the moon a vibrant shade of crimson while the stars seemed to fall from the sky, crashing into the once-beautiful island continent. The sea around the utopia was pure red, and they knew – just knew – that it had turned so because of the endless rivers of blood spilled. They saw Chaos and Cernunnos fighting, but they were sure that they were not the reason the island sunk; no, but it was suddenly clear to them.

The beings, be they Creator, god, or Tuatha de Dannan, they had stripped the earth of its very life force, and that had destroyed it. They had been selfish and careless, and in turn endless carnage erupted. Few would survive this night, and inestimable more blood would be spilled . . .

Matt and Thalia were suddenly ripped back into the present . . . and were horrified. The scene before them, what had once been New York, was equal to that of Atlantis in its final moments. The sky was black; the moon the same bloody red as the ocean, and everything was either being turned to ash, or being completely destroyed. Matt checked his digital watch; it read 2:57am. He knew from primal instinct that 3 AM – the deadly Witching Hour when demons from Hell and other dark beings walk the earth – was when Atlantis sunk, and it would happen again. They had 3 minutes to get out of New York before it was utterly destroyed; Chaos and Atum along with it.

"How long were we gone?" Thalia asked, shaking him back to the present.

"Almost an hour," he replied as he slowly backed up. "But we need to go." He saw the pained look in the White God's eyes, and he saw the wink he gave him, telling him to go.

"Why?" She asked, looking back at the two clashing ancients.

"Because in less then 2 minutes New York will be destroyed, just like the De Dannan Isle," Matt responded as the two took off down the empty and obliterated streets of Times Square. Thalia, as soon as he told her, immediately made the connection and understood; the pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place; everything making sense.

But they knew they wouldn't make it.

They were just on the outside of the New York center point, and they were less then thirty seconds away from the destruction of . . . who knows how much? It could be New York, or all of America, or even North America. Then what? Apocalypse would reign on earth, and everything they had just fought and sacrificed so much to stop would flourish in the carnage that would spread like wildfire. Nothing would be able to stop it then. Nothing would be able to stand against the chaos . . .

Thalia and Matt exchanged a look, both of them understanding that they wouldn't make it, and hearing the immortal words of every single demigod in history: "A hero's fate is never kind, but it is just and given in honor." The two would die, and it would be painful, bloody, and horrible, but they would die in nobility, and that was enough. In those last few moments, memories – some that weren't even theirs – sparkled into their minds . . .

Percy Jackson, sitting upon Delphyne, charging Chaos, knowing he would die but fighting anyway.

Annabeth Chase, sacrificing herself to stop the goddess, knowing very well what her fate would be, but taking it nonetheless.

Nidhogg and Amehait, falling under the power of Hope, being torn apart from the inside out and collapsing in the streets, as close to dead as they could be.

Ymir, swirling around them in his shattered form, threatening, hating – and fearing – them.

Atum, sacrificing himself to save the humani, to save a race that was brutal and vicious, a race that had forgotten him, but he had not forgotten them.

And Chaos, dead, her existence gone, ravaged by something they could not see. They knew this was her future, and reveled in the thought that Chaos would die.

A sharp twinkle shone on the horizon and grew closer, awakening them from their reverie. The thing resembled a horse, but it had far too many legs, _twice _as many legs as it should have . . .

"Blindfire!" Matt shouted in glee. The eight-legged horse nuzzled him quickly, and then hurried them onto his back, knowing of the impending Armageddon.

"Will he be able to get us out of here in time?" Thalia asked, glancing back.

The Son of Odin nodded. "Blindfire – along with all the horses like him – can walk on water, air, and earth and travel immense distances in seconds." Then he turned to the horse, kicking his heels against his sides. "Get us out of here!"

Seconds later, Thalia turned around and felt the air suddenly feel thick, and the earth shook. Something she couldn't explain happened, and she watched as the two glowing balls of energy – Atum and Chaos – far away in the distance, exploded. The light spread, encompassing everything within it. Time stood still for one . . . two . . . three seconds, and then Thalia blinked, her eyes not understanding what they were seeing even as she watched . . .

The now-distant New York sunk beneath the crimson waves . . . . .


	25. Shattered Glass

"So . . . it's finally over? It's all truly over?"

Isabella shuddered in the arms of Matt at the thought of more warfare. She – along with everyone else – had had enough, and it was time to rest. She looked at the circle around her, taking in the trinity of gods and half-bloods, sitting and standing in unity. They were together . . . for now, and that was good enough.

The myriad beings had returned to the Conclave: the remote "castle" hidden away in the bogs of North Carolina's most southern island in the chain of beaches in the Atlantic. It was raining – pouring – outside, and night had fallen even though it was only six o' clock. Everything around them bared the scars of the Fall of New York, and everyone on the continent felt the tremor before the grand city sunk. Everyone knew . . . and everyone wept.

"Yes, daughter," Isis murmured gently. "It is finally over and done. Chaos – along with my grandfather, Atum, are dead, and so is Ymir. There are no more Creators left alive." Matt, Thalia, and Isabella exchanged a worried glance, remembering the words of Atum on Mt. Olympus.

"_Cernunnos has been dead for a long time, and I am surprised to see that he has not heard the Calling . . ."_ It sounded like the Horned God could be awakened . . .

"_I know Lugh, the Dagda, and Danu are only but a few of them, and even the Crow Triad, the Morrigan, the Macha, and the Badb belong to the Old Gods. But they no longer walk this world, they are sleeping . . ."_ Sleeping? Did that mean they weren't dead? That they were alive . . . resting . . .waiting . . . ?

Isis continued, unaware of their revelation. "Darkness has plagued our world, but we have destroyed it. But our realm is fragile, and Chaos took advantage of that. In some way or another, everything is broken like shattered glass. Everything we known is gone . . . over."

"But a new age has dawned," Odin said, his voice commanding. "The Trinity is united, and soon –very soon – we must decide the future."

"The future?" Matt asked, perplexed.

He sighed. "The Olympians, the Asgardians, and the People of Heliopolis are together, and we must choose if we shall remain together or if we are to remain separate."

Thalia was horrified. Turning towards her father, she argued. "But last time you came together we had the sinking of Atlantis and New York! If you join, it'll happen again!"  
Zeus smiled, the gesture forced. "My daughter, the gods were foolish upon the shores of Atlantis, and Atum was intelligent upon New York." Seeing her expression, he continued. "The gods stripped the very, er, _life force _or anima from the land when we were upon the De Dannan Isle. We were arrogant, and we destroyed the land, killing it and in the end, it fell. Atum, being all-powerful, did the same to our precious New York in a matter of hours. And in the process, he destroyed Chaos, so we are eternally grateful."

"So you're saying that the Trinity will come together and . . . stay together?" Isabella whispered hopefully.

Isis let out a small laugh. "Yes, my daughter. It is a possibility," and then, turning to her brothers, Odin and Zeus, said, "and most likely a certainty, am I right?"  
They nodded, and Odin said, "But we still must discuss the future of our people. Come, Ichor, we will convene upon Asgard."

The many gods joined together, and, in a matter of seconds, disappeared in a brilliant display of primal power and golden light. The demigods and myriad creatures were left alone in the Conclave spot, and for the first time in a long time, they felt they could relax.

Thalia joined all the beings together in a circle as they had been before, although this one was much smaller, yet still comfortable in the enormously spacious room of the castle. She pulled Isabella and Matt into the center along with herself, and they sat, and began to tell a story. A tale that was the greatest – and bloodiest – legend of all. Several of the Apollo kids from the Greek camp, many of the Thoth children from the Egyptian, and some of the half-bloods of Kvasir, the Wise God, and Frey from the Norse camp all scrolled down what the three were saying in random pages that they had found.

The Fall of the De Dannan Isle.

Matt, Thalia, and Isabella were the only demigods who knew the truth, and it was time for everyone else to know too. They told the zenith myth ever known, and those gathered were on the edge of their seats in anxiety, dying to knowing what happened next.

The Trinity's history, bloody and filled with carnage, was finally revealed.

* * *

"And in a single day and night of misfortune, the De Danna Isle sunk beneath the waves, gone for eternity," Matt concluded, watching the others' expressions. Everyone who was listening leaned forward, intent to know what happened next. Even Thalia and Isabella were transfixed by his voice, trapped by his allure.

"And you are sure this is the truth?" Grayson, one of the Athena kids, asked.

"One-hundred percent," he responded flatly.

"OK everyone!" Isabella called, standing up. "Time to get some sleep! We've all had a long day and tomorrow will prove to be equally long!" Most of the campers moaned and were annoyed, but obeyed. Isabella felt a tugging at the bottom of her T-shirt and looked down to see a girl not much older than seven looking up at her. "What is it sweetie?" She asked gently.

"Why will tomorrow be long?" The little girl asked, her voice small.

Isabella sighed. "Because our world is shattered glass, and tomorrow we have to pick up the pieces. It will be a very troublesome job, but it must be done."

The girl furrowed her brow. "No, I mean why will tomorrow be longer than today? We are in the middle of summer, and according to the slight tilt of our planet and distance from the sun . . ." The girl prattled on and Isabella just smiled and moved back to sit next to Matt and Thalia.

"Wow, there are some weird ones," she said, smiling.

"Yeah," Matt answered absent-mindedly. The two girls exchanged a glance and Thalia got up, grumbling something about hormonal boys and how they were so unpredictable and melodramatic.

"What's up, Matt?" Isabella asked, inching closer to him.

"I was just thinking, how much of America was destroyed because of us today?"

Isabella shook her head. "No, Matt, think about how much of _earth_ was saved because of _you_ today. You were amazing on the battlefield. Without you, I don't think any of us would be here alive."  
He grinned. "Yeah, but you were the one who thought about the quartz and Mt. Olympus and all that crap."

She shrugged. "That was all Thalia's doing; I only assisted." He looked at her, eyebrows raised. "OK! Fine! It was all my idea! But you should've heard _her_ ideas! I mean, she was thinking of practically everything from releasing fish from the sky to turning them into frogs!" Matt gave off a small laugh, but it didn't seem absolutely genuine. Isabella let out a long breath, then asked, "Alright, what's bugging you? I know it's not the battle. Tell me."

"It's . . . nothing." He turned away, unable to face her.

"Matt . . ."

"Percy and Annabeth," he said suddenly. "Thalia told me how many dangerous adventures they went through, they even faced down the Titan Lord!" He saw the look of confusion on her face and explained, "A powerful ancient being, _apparently _he is evil, but I think he's just greatly misunderstood."

"But what does any of this have to do with anything?"

"They survived so much, and yet they died today – I mean yesterday – and . . . I donno, I just . . . wish I could've saved them."

A shadow passed over Isabella's face in the silent moments that followed. "Matt, Percy knew what he did was right. It was _his_ decision, and _no one_ made him do it. And Annabeth . . . well, yeah, we'll be sad and mourn, but she was a hero, and I know she knew it was right. Plus," she said, a glint in her eyes, "they are in what the Greeks call Elysium, in the Isle of the Blest, even though they were not incarnated." She saw how confused he was and went on, "Elysium is like Greek heaven, perfect, beautiful, amazing. And the Isle of the Blest is where one goes if they choose to be reincarnated three times and get Elysium each time. They were great heroes and gave their lives for the sake of something greater, and so they achieved the highest glory. And this is going to sound so cliché, but they are in a better place."

Matt nodded. "So that's it? Everything is . . . over?"

Isabella smiled, pulling him in and kissed him. "No, Matt, everything has only just begun . . ."

And for the first time since the Fall of New York, the world seemed a hell of a whole lot brighter.


	26. Picking Up the Pieces

The sun broke over the horizon, signaling a new dawn.

Matt awoke first, slowly remembering the events of the past few days as he realized he wasn't in his own bed in his own cabin back at camp. He fumbled slowly around as he got to his feet. He glanced out the window in the Conclave castle, seeing the bog stretch for eternity in front of him. He shuddered as he realized it was over, it was finally over.

He jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Matt whirled around to see Isabella, holding a small black jar with intricate patterns . . .

"Pandora's Box," he murmured. Isabella nodded, smiling as she held it. She moved her fingers to the lid, and slowly and – with irrevocable gentleness – lifted it. There was a soft glow inside, which suddenly grew brighter and bigger, rising until it encompassed them both . . .

When the light faded, Matt felt different. Goosebumps rose on his arms as he remembered that this was how he felt before he was forced to release Hope. His capacity to love and feel went into the box in that moment so he could extract Hope and turn Annabeth into a goddess. But now his very soul had been returned, and he remembered the promise he had made to Isabella, which he had no intention of breaking.

"Forever?" Isabella whispered, her voice small and quivering.

"Forever," Matt finalized as he pulled her into an embrace. Their auras blossomed around them and for a moment mixed, becoming one.

A sharp cough brought them back down to earth as they realized Thalia was watching them. They pulled apart and she approached them, putting her arms around both of theirs' shoulders.

"We did it," she said quietly but with triumph. "We saved the world and kicked Chaos' butt back to hell!"

Isabella smiled, then her face returned to its stern expression. "So what happens next? What about the gods . . ."

Matt and Thalia rolled their eyes in unison, but he spoke first. "My dad is the oldest of our parents, but he is a major softie. He will relent and the gods will come together, and so will the camps."

"And so will the monsters," Thalia muttered.

"Great," Isabella moaned melodramatically, "I have to learn _more_ mythologies! I barely know my own!" They each gave off a small laugh and then returned their eyes to look out the window.

Matt let out a long sigh, then turned to face Isabella and Thalia. "I just can't believe it's all over."

"Well believe it, Mattie," Thalia teased, "because it's all done. All we have to do next is pick up the pieces, which I think we're doing quite nicely, if I do say so myself."

"So where do you think the next Olympus/Asgard/Heliopolis will be, since the gods are united?" Matt asked.

Isabella grinned and said jokingly, "The gods like to be very eccentric and dramatic, so they'll probably kick everyone out of the Azores – the small group of islands in the Atlantic – and make their home there in memory of the De Dannan Isle."

At the mention of the ancient island continent, the atmosphere in the room automatically went dark and foreboding. A million questions ran through their minds, and yet they knew if they understood the past, it would only raise infinite more issues and very little answers.

"Remember what Atum had said about the Old Gods, the Tuatha de Dannan?" Isabella asked. Matt and Thalia nodded, but she elaborated anyway. "He told us that the children of the Horned God were sleeping, and that it was a surprise that Cernunnos hadn't been awakened by the powerful Calling spell we cast, along with the Old Gods. So does that mean that they _could_ be awakened?"

Matt shrugged. "I donno, but one thing I learned throughout this entire adventure is that you don't doubt anything, because most likely it will appear and devastate half the country," he said with a wink. "But I guess we'll have to look into that."

"It's kinda sad that the only person who would know the answer to that stunning question is dead," Thalia said somberly.

Isabella blinked in surprise. "Thalia, no. Atum – along with Chaos – was a primal force. They weren't restricted to a body until Cernunnos had cast the Fall Nor and trapped them within human bodies. The Fall of New York only released them. But Chaos is too weak to do any damage in her energy form, and Atum will keep her at bay. I bet even Ymir is released, although he's probably back in Nifliheim."

Thalia sighed. "So much drama . . . what ever happened to just being a teenager?" They all laughed, and threw in their own jokes for a while. It felt good to just be able to relax and _exist_. Everything was in order, and the pieces – that had been broken like shattered glass – were finally being put back together.

"To the Trinity," Matt said then, putting his hand in the center of them.

"To the Trinity!" Isabella and Thalia called as they placed their hands on top of Matt's.

He took a deep breath and then said, "To the future and what it holds; to the gods in their unity and the camps coming together; to those lost in the Battle for New York, and those saved," then he added, "To the immortal and invincible Trinity!"

His last words echoed throughout the Conclave like haunting reminders. It seemed that now, no matter what, everything was going to be OK, and that was good enough for all of them. They all took a deep breath, savoring the aroma of freedom and something else; something ancient and primeval . . .

_To the Immortal and Invincible Trinity . . ._

_To the Immortal Trinity . . ._

_To the Trinity . . ._

_The Trinity . . ._


	27. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Then the world went black.

Percy and Annabeth were back in the Big House, with Rachel Elizabeth Dare sitting in front of them, a soft glow of light surrounding her. She seemed in a trance, but the two half-bloods were in shock and terror.

Was what they had just seen the _future_?

And if so, how close was that horrific and inevitable fate? They exchanged glances, confused, and then returned to look at Rachel. She had taken the power of the Oracle and had claimed the ancient title of prophetess. But still, was it possible that what she had just shown them was their doom; the doom of the world?

The _Trinity_.

The _Gods_.

The _End_.

Those three echoed throughout the optical prophecy, lacing it with truth and reality, although they knew what they were seeing was only a vision. But it had felt so real, every last part of it . . .

Annabeth shook her head, trying to clear it. "That has got to be the strangest prophecy _ever_."

"Tell me about it," Percy muttered, then added, "Do you think it's the truth? It's what will actually happen?"

Annabeth blinked at him in surprise. "Percy, the Oracle has _never_ been wrong. What Rachel, er, the _prophetess_ just showed us _is_ the future, no doubt about it. The only question is: how long until it happens?"

Rachel shuddered, and the fog that clouded her expression suddenly lifted, and she returned, her face pale and strained. She looked confused, but a spark of understanding suddenly echoed in her eyes and she remembered. They sat in silence for a while before she spoke.

"So that's the future."

"So that's the future," Annabeth agreed quietly, nodding her head. "And what a dark future at that."

"Is there any way to change it?" Percy asked desperately. "Any way at all?"

Annabeth shook her head. "Remember how many times we have received prophecies that predict doom, and we _always_ try to change them, and either there is no way we can change them, or because we _tried_ to change them that the future ended up the way it did. You don't screw with time, Percy; it's far too delicate."

"So there's no hope?" He murmured, closing his eyes.

Rachel shook her head. "There is always hope; and there will be hope for the future. I saw more than you two did. The gods unite, and Trinity is joined once again, and although New York remains a sunken ruin, the immortals return this earth to a paradise it once was. Evil still lingers in the shadows – as it always has and always will – but at least the world is safe. At least there is hope . . . there is always hope," she repeated at the end.

Percy and Annabeth were about to respond, when the sun breaking over the horizon shot through the glass windows and the sound of a horn being blown made them pause. That horn was the call of warning. They had to assemble . . . and fast.

They ran out of the Big House, leaving Rachel alone and confused. They did not draw their weapons, but were fear-stricken. A dark sense of foreboding lingered within them. Something dark and evil, a premonition of the inevitable future that echoed before them . . .

Thalia huddled into a ball on Half Blood Hill, and they were there for only a few minutes to comfort her and barrage her with questions as to why she had come. She explained little, and Percy and Annabeth only heard half of what she said as it suddenly sank it. They were suspecting, yes, but there was no confirmation to what they believed of Rachel's prophecy until Thalia whispered those final words of horror that struck down ever inkling of doubt within them.

"We are not alone."

The World would never be the same again . . .

The Trinity had begun . . .

This was the Beginning of the End . . .

**~THE END~**


	28. A Note

_Dear Readers_

First of all, thanks for reading the Trinity…and coming back to read this little add-on chapter one year after the story was published (one year!? It's been that long!?). Well anyway, some of you a while back were bugging for a sequel, and, unfortunately, there is no sequel. I know, I know, don't cry. Just kidding. But anyway, back on topic. I have written a new story for Percy Jackson and the Olympians (anyone jumping out of their seat in anxiety yet? Yes? No? Just checking…) called "I am become Death."

Summary: Shane, a son of Athena, and Miranda, a daughter of Apollo, who discover a girl in the forest while playing capture the flag. Her powers – which are far more than she should be able to wield – are soon exhibited, and it's not long before the three of them are sent on a quest, centered around the girl, Maria. But throughout the mythological adventures of the triad and some unusual allies along the way, Shane and Miranda are constantly reminded of the question that, if answered, could be the only thing that will save our world…and the Olympians. Just who is the parent god – or goddess – of this all-too-powerful demigod?

So there's the summary. Sound cool? I thought so. Anyway, so just go to my profile page and the story is there. The title is "I am become Death" and you should TOTALLY go read it! So what are you still doing here!? Go read it!

Thanks for Reading!  
_-Shane Lutz_


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